0 


S'  10/7- 


PRINCETON,  N.  J. 


**1. 


Purchased  by  the  Mary  Cheves  Dulles  Fund. 


Division 


F2230 

,W57 


Section .... 


a 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 
in  2016 


https://archive.org/details/northwestamazons00whif_0 


BOKO  MEDICINE  MAN,  WITH  MV  RIFLE 


THE  NORTH-WEST 
AMAZONS 


NOTES  OF  SOME  MONTHS  SPENT 
AMONG  CANNIBAL  TRIBES 


BY 

y 

THOMAS  WHIFFEN 

F.R.G.S.,  F.R.A.I. 

Captain  H.P.  (14TH  Hussars) 


NEW  YORK 

DUFFIELD  AND  COMPANY 


1915 


Printed  in  Great  Britain 


TO  THE  MEMORY  OF  THE  LATE 


Dr.  ALFRED  RUSSEL  WALLACE,  O.M. 

THESE  NOTES  ARE  DEDICATED 


* 


PREFACE 

In  presenting  to  the  public  the  results  of  my  journey  through 
the  lands  about  the  upper  waters  of  the  Amazon,  I make 
no  pretence  of  challenging  conclusions  drawn  by  such  ex- 
perienced scientists  as  Charles  Waterton,  Alfred  Russel 
Wallace,  Richard  Spruce,  and  Henry  Walter  Bates,  nor  to 
compete  with  the  indefatigable  industry  of  those  recent 
explorers  Dr.  Koch-Grunberg  and  Dr.  Hamilton  Rice. 

Some  months  of  the  years  1908  and  1909  were  passed 
by  me  travelling  in  regions  between  the  River  Issa  and  the 
River  Apaporis  where  white  men  had  scarcely  penetrated 
previously.  In  the  remoter  parts  of  these  districts  the  tribes 
of  nomad  Indians  are  frankly  cannibal  on  occasion,  and 
provide  us  with  evidence  of  a condition  of  savagery  that 
can  hardly  be  found  elsewhere  in  the  world  of  the  twentieth 
century.  It  will  be  noted  that  this  area  includes  the 
Putumayo  District. 

With  regard  to  the  references  in  footnotes  and  appendices, 
I have  inserted  them  to  suggest  where  similarities  of  culture 
or  variations  of  a given  custom  are  to  be  found.  These 
notes  may  be  of  some  use  to  the  student  of  such  problems 
as  the  question  of  cultural  contact  with  Pacific  peoples,  and 
at  the  least  they  represent  the  evidence  on  which  I have 
based  my  own  conclusions. 

THOMAS  WHIFFEN. 


vii 


London,  19x4. 


* 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  I 

PAGE 

Introductory  ..........  i 


CHAPTER  II 

Topography — Rivers — Floods  and  rainfall — Climate — Soil — Animal 
and  vegetable  life — Birds — Flowers — Forest  scenery — Tracks — 
Bridges  — Insect  pests  — Reptiles  — Silence  in  the  forest  — 
Travelling  in  the  bush — Depressing  effects  of  the  forest — Lost 
in  the  forest — Starvation  the  crowning  horror  . . . 17 


CHAPTER  III 

Thelndianhomestead — Building — Site  and  plan  of  maloka — Furniture 
— Inhabitants  of  the  house — Fire — Daily  life — Insect  inhabitants 
— Pets  ..........  40 


CHAPTER  IV 

Classification  of  Indian  races — Difficulties  of  tabulating — Language- 
groups  and  tribes — Names — Sources  of  confusion — Witoto  and 
Boro — Localities  of  language-groups — Population  of  districts — 
Intertribal  strife — Tribal  enemies  and  friends — Reasons  for  end- 
less warfare — Intertribal  trade  and  communications — Relation- 
ships— Tribal  organisation — The  chief,  his  position  and  powers — 

Law — Tribal  council — Tobacco-drinking — Marriage  system  and 
regulations — Position  of  women — Slaves  . . . -53 


CHAPTER  V 


Dress  and  ornament — Geographical  and  tribal  differentiations — 
Festal  attire — Feather  ornaments — Hair-dressing — Combs — 


IX 


X 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


PAGE 


Dance  girdles — Beads — Necklaces — Bracelets — Leg  rattles — 
Ligatures — Ear-rings — Use  of  labret — Nose  pins — Scarification 
— Tattoo — Tribal  marks — Painting  ..... 


CHAPTER  VI 

Occupations — Sexual  division  and  tabu — Tribal  manufactures — Arts 
and  crafts— Drawing — Carving — Metals — Tools  and  implements 
— No  textile  fabrics — Pottery — Basket-making — Hammocks — 
Cassava -squeezer  and  grater — Pestle  and  mortar — Wooden 
vessels — Stone  axes — Methods  of  felling  trees — Canoes — Rafts 
— Paddles  ..........  90 


CHAPTER  VII 

Agriculture — Plantations — Preparation  of  ground  in  the  forest — 

Paucity  of  agricultural  instruments  — Need  for  diligence — * 

Women’s  incessant  toil — No  special  harvest-time — Maize  the  only 
grain  grown — No  use  for  sugar — Manioc  cultivation — Peppers — 
Tobacco — Coca  cultivation — Tree-climbing  methods — Indian 
wood-craft — Indian  tracking — Exaggerated  sporting  yams — 
Indian  sense  of  locality  and  accuracy  of  observation — Blow-pipes 
— Method  of  making  blow-pipes — Darts — Indian  improvidence 
— Migration  of  game — Traps  and  snares — Javelins — Hunting 
and  fishing  rights — Fishing — Fish  traps — Spearing  and  poison- 
ing fish  . . . . . . . . . .102 


CHAPTER  VIII 

The  Indian  armoury — Spears — Bows  and  arrows — Indian  strategy — 
Forest  tactics  and  warfare — Defensive  measures — Secrecy  and 
safety — The  Indian’s  science  of  war — Prisoners — War  and 
anthropophagy — Cannibal  tribes — Reasons  for  cannibal  practices 
— Ritual  of  vengeance — Other  causes — No  intra-tribal  cannibal- 
ism— The  anthropophagous  feast — Human  relics — Necklaces  of 
teeth — Absence  of  salt — Geophagy  . . . . . 115 


CHAPTER  IX 

The  food  quest — Indians  omnivorous  eaters — Tapir  and  other  animals 
used  for  food — Monkeys — The  peccary — Feathered  game — 
Vermin — Eggs,  carrion,  and  intestines  not  eaten— Honey — Fish 
— Manioc — Preparation  of  cassava — Peppers — The  Indian  hot- 
pot— Lack  of  salt — Indian  meals — Cooking — Fruits — Cow-tree 
milk  . .......... 


126 


CONTENTS 


xi 


CHAPTER  X 

PAGE 

' Drinks,  drugs,  and  poisons  : their  use  and  preparation — Unfermented 
drinks — Caapi — Fermented  drinks — Cahuana — Coca  : its  pre- 
paration, use,  and  abuse — Parica — Tobacco— Poison  and  poison- 
makers  . . . . . . . . . .138 


CHAPTER  XI 

Small  families — Birth  tabu — Birth  customs — Infant  mortality — In- 
fanticide— Couvade — Name-giving— Names — Tabu  on  names — 
Childhood — Lactation — Food  restrictions — Child-life  and  train- 
ing— Initiation  . . . . . . . . .146 


CHAPTER  XII 

Marriage  regulations — Monogamy — Wards  and  wives — Courtship — 
Qualifications  for  matrimony — Preparations  for  marriage — 

Child  marriages — Exception  to  patrilocal  custom — Marriage 
ceremonies — Choice  of  a mate — Divorce — Domestic  quarrels — 
Widowhood  .........  159 


CHAPTER  XIII 

• Sickness — Death  by  poison — Infectious  diseases — Cruel  treatment  of 
sick  and  aged — Homicide — Retaliation  for  murder — Tribal  and 
personal  quarrels — Diseases — Remedies — Death — Mourning — 
Burial  ..........  168 


CHAPTER  XIV 

, The  medicine-man,  a shaman — Remedies  and  cures — Powers  and 
duties  of  the  medicine-man — Virtue  of  breath — Ceremonial  heal- 
ing— Hereditary  office — Training — Medicine-man  and  tigers — 
Magic-working — Properties — Evil  always  due  to  bad  magic — 
Influence  of  medicine-man — Method  of  magic-working — Magical 
cures  . . . . . . . . . . .178 


CHAPTER  XV 

Indian  dances — Songs  without  meaning — Elaborate  preparations — 
The  Chief’s  invitation  — Numbers  assembled  — Dance  step 
— Reasons  for  dances — Special  dances — Dance  staves — Arrange- 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


PACK 


xii 


ment  of  dancers — Method  of  airing  a grievance — Plaintiff’s  song 
of  complaint — The  tribal  " black  list  ” — Manioc-gathering  dance 
and  song  — Muenane  Riddle  Dance  — A discomfited  dancer — 
Indian  riddles  and  mimicry — Dance  intoxication — An  unusual 
incident  — A favourite  dance  — ■ The  cannibal  dance  — A mad 
festival  of  savagery — The  strange  fascination  of  the  Amazon  . 190 


CHAPTER  XVI 

Songs  the  essential  element  of  native  dances — Indian  imagination 
and  poetry — Music  entirely  ceremonial — Indian  singing — Simple 
melodies — Words  without  meaning — Sense  of  time — Limitations 
of  songs — Instrumental  music — Pan-pipes — Flutes  and  fifes — 
Trumpets — Jurupari  music  and  ceremonial — Castanets — Rattles 
— Drums — The  manguare — Method  of  fashioning  drums — Drum 
language — Signal  and  conversation — Small  hand-drums  . . 206 


CHAPTER  XVII 

. The  Indians’  magico-religious  system — The  Good  Spirit  and  the  Bad 
Spirit — Names  of  deities — Character  of  Good  Spirit — His  visit  to 
earth  — Question  of  missionary  influence  — Lesser  subordinate 
spirits — Child-lifting — No  prayer  or  supplication — Classification 
of  spirits — Immortality  of  the  soul — Land  of  the  After-Life — 
Ghosts  and  name  tabu — Temporary  disembodied  spirits — Extra- 
mundane  spirits — Spirits  of  particularised  evils — Spirits  of  in- 
animate objects — The  jaguar  and  anaconda  magic  beasts — Tiger 
folk — Fear  of  unknown — Suspicions  about  camera — Venerated 
objects — Charms — Magic  against  magic — Omens  . . .218 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

* Darkness  feared  by  Indians — Story-telling — Interminable  length  of 
tales — Variants — Myths — Sun  and  moon — Deluge  traditions — 
Tribal  stories — Amazons— -White  Indians  tradition — Boro  tribal 
tale  — Amazonian  equivalents  of  many  world  - tales  — Beast 
stories  — Animal  characteristics  — Difference  of  animal  char- 
acteristics in  tale  and  tabu— No  totems — Indian  hatred  of 
animal  world  .........  236 


CHAPTER  XIX 

Limitations  of  speech — Differences  of  dialect — Language-groups — 
Tribal  names — Difficulties  of  languages — Method  of  translitera- 
tion— Need  of  a common  medium — Ventral  ejaculations — Con- 
struction— Pronouns  as  suffix  or  prefix — Negatives — Gesture 


CONTENTS 


xiii 

PAGE 

language — Numbers  and  reckoning— Indefinite  measure — Time 
— No  writing,  signs,  nor  personal  marks — Tribal  calls — Drum- 
language  code — Conversational  repetitions — Noisy  talkers — 
Ventriloquists — Falsetto  voice — Conversational  etiquette  . 246 


CHAPTER  XX 

No  individualism — Effect  of  isolation — Extreme  reserve  of  Indians — 
Cruelty — Dislike  and  fear  of  strangers — Indian  hospitality — 
Treachery  — Theft  punished  by  death  — Dualism  of  ethics — 
Vengeance — Moral  sense  and  custom — Modest}'  of  the  women — 
Jealousy  of  the  men — Hatred  of  white  man — Ingratitude — Curi- 
osity— Indians  retarded  but  not  degenerate — No  evidence  of 
reversion  from  higher  culture — A neolithic  people — Conclusion.  255 


APPENDICES 

I.  Physical  Characteristics  .......  269 

II.  Mongoloid  Origin  ........  280 

III.  Depilation  .........  282 

IV.  Colour  Analysis  and  Measurements  .....  283 

V.  Articles  noted  by  Wallace  as  in  use  among  the  Uaupes 

Indians  that  are  found  with  the  Issa- Japura  Tribes  . . 291 

VI.  Names  of  Deities  ........  293 

VII.  Vocabularies  and  Lists  of  Names  .....  296 

VIII.  Poetry  . . . . . . . . . .311 

LIST  OF  BOOKS  REFERRED  TO 313 

INDEX 315 


* 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 


PLATB  NO. 


FACING  PAGE 


III. 

IV 

V. 

VI. 

VII 


Boro  Medicine  Man,  with  my  Rifle  . . Frontispiece 

I.  Houses  in  the  “ Rubber  Belt  ” of  the  Issa  Valley 
II.  A House  in  the  “ Rubber  Belt,”  Issa  Valley 

1.  Typical  River  View  below  the  Mouth  of  the  Negro 
River 

2.  Bank  of  Main  Amazon  Stream  in  the  Vicinity  of  the 
Mouth  of  the  Japura  River 

River  View  on  Main  Stream  near  Issa  River) 

Landscape  on  Upper  Amazon  Main  Stream  / 

The  Bulge-stemmed  Palm,  Iriartea  Venticosa,  showing 
portion  of  Leaf  and  Fruit  .... 
Flowers  and  Section  of  Leaf  of  the  Bussu  Palm.  The 
Leaf  is  used  for  Thatching  .... 

Self,  with  Nonuya  Tribe) 

Muenane  Tribe  / 


e 


VIII 


■{i 

f i.  Group  of  Witoto  ) 

t2.  Group  of  Some  of  my  Carriers J 


IX.  Medicine  Man  and  his  Wife  (Andoke) 

X.  Boro  Tribesmen  ...... 

XI.  Witoto  Feather  Head-dresses  .... 

XII.  Groups  of  Resigero  Women  .... 

XIII.  Centre  of  Dancing  Group — Muenane 

XIV.  Boro  Comb  of  Palm  Spines  set  in  Pitch  and  finished 

with  Basketwork  of  Split  Cane,  Fibre  Strings,  and 
Tufts  of  Parrots’  Feathers  . 
f x.  Dukaiya  (Okaina)  Bead  Dancing-girdle  ) 

XV. -J  2.  Condor  Claws,  used  by  Andoke  Medicine  Man  - 
l of  the  Upper  Japura  River  J 

XVI.  Necklaces  of  Human  and  Tiger  Teeth  . 

i.  Necklace  of  Polished  Nutshells.  2.  Leg  Rattles 
of  Beads  and  Nutshells.  3,  4,  5,  and  6.  Bead  Neck- 
laces. The  Black  “ Beads  ” are  Bits  of  Polished 
.Nutshell,  threaded  between  White  Beads 


XVII, 


4 

16 


18 

20 

28 

44 

46 


70 

72 

74 

76 

78 

80 


78 


80 


82 


82 


XV 


XVI 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


PLATE  NO. 


XX. 

XXI. 


XXIII. 


Arm  Ligatures.  Witoto  Leg 
2,  Witoto,  Ligatures 


XVIII.  Boro  Ligatures 
XIX.  Boro  Leg  and 
Ligature 
i and  3,  Boro. 

Andoke  Girls  ..... 

XXII.  Witoto  Baskets  of  Split  Cane  and  Fibre  . 

(Boro  Necklace  of  Jaguars’  Teeth  with  Incised 
Patterns 

Necklace  of  Jaguar  Teeth,  Incised,  and  Flute 
made  of  Human  Bone 

XXIV.  Boro  Cassava-squeezer.  (A)  Loop  at  End 
Okaina  Group  J 

Group  of  Okaina  Women  / 

Indian  Plantation  cleared  by  Fire  preparatory'! 
to  Cultivation 


XXV 


XXVI. 


■G 

/’■ 


XXX.. 


(2.  View  on  Affluent  of  the  Kahuinari  River  / 
XXVII.  Erythroxylon-Coca  ..... 

(1  and  2.  Andoke  Bamboo  Cases  with  Darts  and) 
Cotton.  3.  Dart  with  Cotton  attached.  4.  Blow- 
pipe with  Dart.  5.  Javelin.  6.  Fishing  Trident. 

7.  Spears  in  Bamboo  Case.  8.  Dance  Staff 
XXIX.  Andoke  Bamboo  Case  with  Darts  for  Blow-pipe  and 
Gourd  full  of  Cotton  .... 
’ 1.  Water  Jar,  Menimehe;  (a)  Witoto.  2.  Drums 
(Witoto).  3.  Pan-pipes,  Witoto  ; (a)  Boro.  4. 
Stone  Axe  (Andoke).  5.  Paddle  used  on  Main 
Amazon  Stream.  6.  Paddle  used  on  Issa  and 
Japura  Rivers.  7.  Menimehe  Hand  Club.  8. 
Wooden  Sword  (Boro).  9.  Pestle — Coca,  etc.  (Boro) 
XXXI.  Bamboo  Cases,  filled  with  Darts  for  Blow-pipe, 
showing  Fish-jaw  Scraper,  and  Gourd  filled 
with  Raw  Cotton.  One  Dart  has  Tuft  of  Cotton 
placed  ready  for  Use.  These  are  Andoke  Work 
XXXII.  Witoto  War  Gathering  .... 
Boro  Necklace  made  of  Marmoset  Teeth! 
Andoke  Necklace  of  Human  Teeth  / 
XXXIV.  Boro  Women  making  Cassava 
XXXV.  Witoto  Cassava  - squeezer.  Boro  Manioc  - grater 
with  Palm-spine  Points  .... 
XXXVI.  One  of  the  Ingredients  of  the  Famous  Curare 
Poison  ...... 


XXXIII 


■G 


PAGE 

84 

84 

86 

88 

90 

92 

96 

98 

102 

106 

BO  8 

no 

116 


118 

120 

124 

132 

i34 

138 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 


xvn 


PLATE  NO. 


FACING 


XXXVII. 

XXXVIII. 

XXXIX. 

XL. 

XLI. 

XLII. 

XLIII. 


XLIV. 

XLV. 

XLVI. 

XLVII. 

XLVIII. 

XLIX. 


L. 


LI. 


LII. 

LIII. 

LIV. 


Incised  Gourds  ..... 

Karahone  Child.  Boro  Women  carrying  Children 

Boro  Women  carrying  Children 

Okaina  Girls  ...... 

Stone  Axe  Head  (Boro).  String  of  Magic  Stones 
(Andoke)  ...... 

Anatto,  Bixa  Ovellana.  A Red  Dye,  or  Paint,  is 
made  from  the  Seed  .... 

Half  Gourds  decorated  with  Incised  Patterns,  made 
by  Witoto  near  the  Mouth  of  the  Kara  Parana 
River.  Dukaiya  (Okaina)  Rattle  made  of  Nut- 
shells ....... 

Okaina  Girls  painted  for  Dance 
Boro  Dancing.  Group  of  Nonuya,  Men  and 
Women  ...... 

Muenane  Dance  ..... 

Okaina  Dance  ...... 

Okaina  Dance  ...... 

Pan-pipes  ...... 

(Group  of  Witoto  Women  by  Double-stemmed  ) 
Palm  Tree 

Group  of  Witoto  Men  by  Double-stemmed  Palm  I 
Tree  J 

i and  2.  Witoto  Types.  3.  Witoto  from  Kotue 
River  ...... 

(Combs.  1.  Andoke  Comb  with  Nutshell  Cup  fori 
\ Rubber  Latex.  2.  Witoto  Comb.  3.  Boro  Comb/ 
| Boro  Tribesman  from  the  Pama  River) 

\ A Menimehe  Captive  / 

Witoto  Types.  Witoto  Woman  with  Leg  Liga- 
tures ...... 


MAPS 

Map.  1.  Approximate  Plan  of  Route  .... 

Map.  2.  Sketch  Map  ...... 

Map.  3.  Diagrammatic  Map  of  the  Issa- Japura  Central  Water- 
shed, showing  Language  Groups 
Sketch  Map  of  the  North-Western  Affluents  of  the  Amazon 
River  . . . . . . . At 

Sketch  Map  of  the  Amazon  River  with  its  Northern  Affluents  At 


PAGE 

144 

i5° 

154 

158 

184 

190 


192 

194 

196 

200 

202 

204 

210 

232 

270 

272 

274 

278 


10 

58 

end 

end 


* 


CHAPTER  I 


INTRODUCTORY 

In  the  spring  of  1908,  having  been  among  the  Unemployed 
on  the  Active  List  for  nearly  two  years  on  account  of  ill- 
health,  and  wearying  not  only  of  enforced  inactivity  but 
also  perhaps  of  civilisation,  I decided  to  go  somewhere  and 
see  something  of  a comparatively  unknown  and  unrecorded 
comer  of  the  world.  My  mind  reverted  to  pleasant  days 
spent  in  the  lesser  known  parts  of  East  Africa,  and  at  this 
moment  I happened  to  come  across  Dr.  Russel  Wallace’s 
delightful  Travels  on  the  Amazon  and  Rio  Negro.  His 
spirited  adventures,  and  the  unique  character  of  the  country 
through  which  he  passed  and  the  peoples  he  met,  fascinated 
me.  I thought  of  attempting  to  complete  his  unfinished 
journey  up  the  Uaupes  River,  and  imagined  I would  be  able 
to  secure  in  South  America  all  the  instruments  and  materials 
such  an  expedition  required.  There  lay  my  initial  error. 
My  inability  to  obtain  anything  of  the  sort  hampered  me 
in  scientific  research,  so  that  these  chapters  must  simply  be 
regarded  as  impressions  and  studies  of  native  ways  and 
doings,  noted  by  a temporary  dweller  in  their  midst. 

Difference  of  technique,  industry,  ability,  and  scientific 
knowledge  may  in  the  light  of  future  investigations  reveal 
errors  or  misapprehensions  that  must  bring  me  into  conflict 
with  those  who  may  go  there  better  equipped  and  with 
greater  understanding.  But  in  any  critical  appraisement 
it  must  be  remembered  that  these  tribes  are  changing  day 
by  day,  and  every  year  that  passes  will  increase  the  difference 
between  the  Amazonian  native  as  I knew  him  and  as  he 
may  be  when  studied  by  my  successors.  So  far  as  in  me 


2 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


lies,  I have  here  set  forth  an  account  of  what  he  was  when 
I travelled  in  his  forest  solitudes  and  fastnesses. 

I left  England  towards  the  end  of  April  1908  and  arrived 
at  Manaos  on  the  Negro  River  on  May  27.  Incidentally  I 
arrived  again  at  Manaos  homeward  bound  on  the  same 
day  and  almost  at  the  same  hour  the  following  year.1  It 
may  be  taken,  therefore,  that  my  entire  journey  covered 
exactly  twelve  months. 

On  arrival  at  Manaos,  I made  inquiries  as  to  the  facilities 
for  proceeding  to  S.  Gabriel  near  the  junction  of  the 
Negro  and  Uaupes  Rivers,  and  thence  up  the  latter  stream.2 
My  theory  at  the  time  was  that  it  would  be  possible  to 
ascend  this  river  to  its  source,  and  from  the  vicinity  to 
make  a way  across  country  via  the  Apaporis,  Japura,  Issa, 
and  Napo  Rivers  to  Iquitos.  I soon  found  that  the  difficulty 
of  obtaining  the  necessary  men  would  be  immense,  and  the 
ascent,  in  local  opinion,  impracticable  without  an  expedition 
on  a scale  for  which  I possessed  neither  the  influence  nor 
the  pecuniary  resources.  Persuaded  that  my  line  of  least 
resistance,  so  far  as  the  Uaupes  was  concerned,  would  be 
to  reverse  the  contemplated  journey  and  work  from  Iquitos 
to  a point  on  the  Uaupes  and  then  descend  to  Manaos,  I 
proceeded  by  the  Navigation  Company’s  steamboat  to  the 
former  town,  where  I arrived  the  second  week  in  June. 

In  company  with  Mr.  David  Cazes,  the  British  Consul, 
to  whom  I am  indebted  for  many  kindnesses,  I made  a 
trip  up  the  Napo  River.  It  was  soon  apparent,  however, 
that  it  would  be  practically  impossible  to  cross  from  that 
river  to  the  Issa.  This  was  not  due  to  the  difficulty  of 
porterage,  because  there  is  a “ recognised  route  ” from  a 
point  some  way  above  the  mouth  of  the  Curaray  to  Puerto 
Barr  os,  but  to  the  impossibility  of  obtaining  men.  Rumours 
were  rife  at  this  time  of  fighting  between  the  Colombian 
and  Peruvian  rubber-gatherers  on  the  Issa  River,  and  the 
Napo  Indians  would  not  go  in  that  direction  on  account 


1 My  arrival  in  England  was  postponed  to  some  months  later  through 
an  attack  of  beriberi. 

2 It  was  unknown  to  me  till  afterwards  that  Dr.  Koch-Griinberg  of 
Berlin  had,  in  1904,  ascended  the  Uaupes  to,  I believe,  710  west  longitude. 


APPROXIMATE  PLAN  OF  ROUTE 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


3 


of  a not  unnatural  dread  lest  they  be  treated  as  enemies  by 
whichever  party  of  combatants  they  might  happen  to  meet. 

Eventually,  through  the  good  offices  of  the  British  Con- 
sulate, I sailed  from  Iquitos  by  way  of  the  main  Amazon 
River  and  the  Issa  or  Putumayo  River  to  Encanto  at 
the  mouth  of  the  Kara  Parana,  which  I reached  in  the 
middle  of  August.  It  is  from  this  point  that  my  notes  on 
the  manners  and  customs  of  the  Indians  really  commence. 

I saw  at  once  that  it  would  be  impossible  to  gain  any 
insight  into  the  ways  and  customs  of  the  various  tribes 
unless  I spent  some  considerable  time  in  what  one  might 
call  a roving  commission  among  them.  I had  with  me  at 
this  time  John  Brown,  a Barbadian  negro.  He  had  been 
for  some  three  years  previously  in  the  Issa  district  in  the 
employ  of  a Rubber  Company,  and  I enlisted  him  as  my 
personal  servant  at  Iquitos.  He  had  “ married  ” a Witoto 
woman  some  two  years  before,  and  through  this  attach- 
ment I was  able  to  derive  much  valuable  information.  In 
fact,  he  was  invaluable  throughout  the  whole  expedition, 
and  was  more  loyal  and  more  devoted  than  a traveller 
with  some  experience  of  the  African  boy  in  his  native 
haunts  had  reason  to  anticipate  of  any  black  servant. 

On  the  1 8th  of  August  we  started  for  the  Igara  Parana, 
having  collected  eight  Indian  carriers,  two  half-castes,  and 
eight  “ rationales,”  or  semi-civilised  Indians,  armed  with 
Winchesters,  together  with  three  Indian  women,  wives  of 
three  of  the  rationales. 

It  may  here  be  mentioned  that  these  armed  Indians 
were  to  be  obtained  in  the  Rubber  Belt  by  arrangement 
with  their  employers.  It  is  the  practice  of  the  rubber- 
gatherers  to  train  Indian  boys  and  utilise  them  as  escort, 
and  to  obtain  rubber  from  the  tribes  hostile  to  those  to 
which  the  boys  belong.  This  is  perhaps  necessary  to  avoid 
collusion.  In  my  experience  there  was  never  any  question 
of  fixed  charge  or  price  when  hiring  carriers.  They  expected 
to  be  given,  at  the  conclusion  of  their  service,  a present  of 
cloth,  beads,  a shot  gun,1  or  such  other  item  of  trade  as 

1 A rifle,  where  possessed,  is  never  used  against  an  animal  but  kept  for 
use  against  the  white  man. 


4 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


their  heart  coveted.  The  line  of  argument  was  simple  : 
“ You  do  what  I tell  you,  and  when  we  part  I will  make 
you  a rich  man.”  Wealth  was  represented  by  cloth,  beads, 
and  a knife.  A boy  I called  Jim  promised  to  go  to  the 
end  of  the  earth  if  I would  give  him  a shot  gun.  This  was 
his  sole  ambition.  He  was  one  of  my  escort,  and  although 
carrying  a Winchester,  I do  not  think  it  ever  entered  into 
his  head  to  make  off  with  it.  Such  is  the  simple  Indian 
nature.  I do  not  mean  that  he  would  not  have  run  away 
if  such  a plan  suited  him,  but  he  would  not  have  done  so 
for  the  sake  and  value  of  the  Winchester. 

The  two  half-breeds  were  rubber-collectors.  They  were 
bound  for  the  Igara  Parana,  and  were  only  with  me  until 
we  reached  Chorrera. 

The  semi-civilised  Indians  are  fairly  trustworthy,  although 
discipline  must  be  strongly  enforced  to  prevent  looting  if 
only  because  of  the  danger  of  reprisals  on  the  part  of  the 
indigenous  natives.  During  my  wanderings  the  carriers 
were  often  changed,  especially  while  passing  through  the 
Rubber  Belt.  Those  men  will  always  run  if  they  get  the 
chance,  even  if  they  are  in  the  midst  of  hostile  tribes,  when 
to  desert  is  more  often  death  than  not.  In  number  the  party 
remained  approximately  the  same  throughout  my  journey. 

The  carriers  must  be  incessantly  shepherded,  kept  from 
lagging  behind  or  going  ahead  too  quickly.  They  must  not 
be  allowed  to  stop  for  any  length  of  time  or  a forced  camp 
will  be  a necessity.  It  is  the  custom  of  all  Indians  to 
bathe  whenever  possible,  however  heated  they  may  be,  and 
this  will  have  to  be  tolerated ; but  if  progress  is  to  be  made 
they  must  not  stop  to  eat.  It  was  my  custom  to  eat  at 
daybreak  and  again  at  the  end  of  the  day’s  march. 

Treachery  on  the  part  of  the  native  Indians  it  is  always 
necessary  to  guard  against — in  the  Rubber  Belt  because  of 
the  treatment  they  have  received  in  the  past ; farther 
afield  partly  on  account  of  the  rumours  of  such  treatment, 
and  partly  on  the  principle  that  it’s  the  nervous  dog  that 
bites.  They  ask  but  one  question  : “ Why  is  the  white 
man  here  ? ” They  accord  it  but  one  answer  : “ We  know 
not.  It  is  best  to  kill.”  And  it  is  not,  as  is  noted  else- 


PLATE  1. 


HOUSES  IX  THE  RUBBER  BELT  OF  THE  ISSA  VALLEY 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


5 


where,  the  custom  of  the  Indian  to  attack  openly,  but 
when  he  has  the  chance  of  succeeding  with  little  or  no 
danger  to  himself. 

We  reached  Chorrera,  or  Big  Falls,  on  the  22nd  of 
August,  and  thence  wended  our  way  by  land  up  the 
Igara  Parana,  arriving  without  much  incident  in  the 
Andoke  country  on  the  19th  of  September.  Here,  by 
arrangement  with  an  Andoke  chief,  I managed  to  get  a 
young  Karahone  lad,  a slave  who  had  been  captured  some 
years  previously  by  the  Andoke  and  who  said  he  would 
take  me  to  his  own  people  across  the  great  river.  While 
we  were  encamped  near  the  banks  of  the  J apura  River,  and 
searching  for  the  bulge-stemmed  palm  tree  with  which  to 
make  a canoe,  we  observed  three  canoes  of  Karahone  on 
their  way  down  the  river,  possibly  after  some  warlike 
expedition.  We  tried  to  stop  them,  but  in  vain.  When, 
eventually,  we  crossed  the  river,  we  found  the  occupants 
of  the  canoes  had  given  the  alarm.  Every  house  we  visited 
was  abandoned,  four  in  all,  and  the  path  was  peppered 
with  poisoned  stakes  sharpened  to  the  finest  point  and 
exposed  above  ground  for  perhaps  half  to  three-quarters 
of  an  inch.  A carrier  who  trod  on  one  had  to  be  carried 
back  as  he  was  quite  disabled  for  the  march. 

Returning  to  the  Japura  River,  we  made  our  way  to 
the  upper  reaches  of  the  Kahuinari  River,  visiting  different 
tribes  and  collecting  information.  I was  anxious  at  this 
time  to  descend  this  river  and  find  out,  if  possible,  the  fate 
of  Eugene  Robuchon,  the  French  explorer,  who  had  been 
missing  for  some  two  years. 

It  may  be  pertinent  here  to  give  in  full  the  story  of 
Robuchon’s  disappearance  and  my  search  for  traces  of  his 
last  expedition. 

Eugene  Robuchon,  the  adventurous  French  explorer 
whose  notes  on  the  Indians  of  the  Putumayo  are  known  to 
every  investigator,  left  the  Great  Falls  on  the  Igara  Parana 
in  November  1905.  It  was  his  intention  to  make  for  the 
head  waters  of  the  Japura  and  to  explore  that  river  on  behalf 
of  the  Peruvian  Government  throughout  its  length  for 
traces  of  rubber.  He  started  with  a party  consisting  of 


6 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


three  negroes,  one  half-breed,  and  five  Indians  with  one 
Indian  woman.  He  carried  supplies  barely  sufficient  for 
two  months.  I carefully  examined  all  the  survivors  of  the 
expedition  that  I encountered,  and  from  them  gathered  the 
following  account  of  the  journey  : — 

Having  left  the  Great  Falls,  Robuchon  proceeded  by 
canoe  up  the  Igara  Parana  to  a point  some  ten  miles  above 
the  mouth  of  the  Fue  stream.  He  left  the  river  there, 
struck  northward  through  the  Chepei  country,  and  reached 
the  Japura  approximately  at  740  W.,  some  thirty  miles 
above  the  Kuemani  River.  The  Indians  encountered  at 
this  spot  belonged  to  a Witoto-speaking  tribe,  the  Taikene. 
They  were  friendly,  but  either  could  not  or  would  not 
provide  Robuchon  with  a canoe.  Three  valuable  weeks 
were  spent  in  the  search  for  a suitable  tree  and  in  the 
construction  of  a canoe. 

When  at  length  this  was  finished,  the  party  started  down- 
stream, and  for  a time  progressed  without  incident.  No 
natives  were  seen  for  several  days.  At  last  Robuchon’s 
Indians  called  his  attention  to  a narrow  path  that  led  up 
from  the  river-bank  on  the  right.  Anxious  about  his  food 
supply,  he  landed  and  followed  the  path  until  he  came  upon 
a clearing  and  an  Indian  house.  Eventually  Robuchon 
arranged  with  the  inhabitants  that  four  of  them  should 
come  down  to  the  canoe  with  food  and  receive  presents  in 
exchange.  But  when  a larger  number  than  he  expected 
appeared  upon  the  bank,  the  explorer  feared  treachery  and 
at  once  pushed  off  without  waiting  for  the  much-needed 
provisions.  The  Indians  thereupon  manned  their  canoes 
and  started  in  pursuit,  shouting  the  while  to  him  to  stop. 
But  with  his  small  party  Robuchon  dared  take  no  chances. 
He  pushed  on  until  the  pursuers  had  been  satisfactorily 
outdistanced. 

The  boy  who  told  me  the  tale  was  convinced  that  these 
Indians  were  perfectly  friendly  in  intention,  and  the  incident 
appeared  to  be  proof  of  the  nervous  state  of  the  party. 
Some  time  after  this,  while  shooting  the  rapids  at  the 
Igarape  Falls,  the  canoe  was  upset  and  the  greater  part 
of  the  remaining  stores  was  swept  away. 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


7 


The  details  of  this  misadventure  I was  never  able  to 
extract  in  a coherent  fashion  from  the  followers  I inter- 
viewed, but  they  agreed  that  very  little  food  of  any  kind 
was  left,  and  what  was  rescued  had  been  almost  entirely 
destroyed  by  water. 

Short  of  food,  and  without  a canoe,  the  boys  became 
mutinous.  The  three  negroes  and  the  half-breed  deserted, 
and  sought  to  cut  a way  through  the  bush  backward  in  the 
direction  whence  they  had  come.  This  task  was  beyond 
them,  and,  a few  days  later,  weary,  disheartened,  and  starv- 
ing, they  returned  to  beg  Robuchon’s  forgiveness.  The 
reunited  party  improvised  a raft,  and,  after  undergoing  the 
customary  hardships  of  an  unequipped  expedition  in  this 
hostile  country,  reached  the  mouth  of  the  Kahuinari.  The 
whole  party  was  weak  with  hunger  and  fever,  Robuchon  him- 
self prostrate  and  incapable  of  going  farther.  He  determined 
to  remain  where  he  was  with  the  Indian  woman  and  the 
Great  Dane  hound,  Othello.  He  ordered  the  negroes  and 
the  half-breed  to  push  on  up  the  Kahuanari  to  a rubber- 
gatherer’s  house  which  he  believed  was  situated  somewhere 
between  the  Igara  Parana  and  the  Avio  Parana.  They 
were  to  send  back  relief  at  the  earliest  possible  moment. 
The  boys  left  Robuchon  on  February  3,  1906.  He  was 
never  again  seen  by  any  one  in  touch  with  civilisation. 

The  boys  had  journeyed  for  but  a few  hours  when  they 
came  across  a herd  of  peccary.  They  killed  more  than  they 
could  possibly  use,  but  made  no  attempt  whatever  to  carry 
any  meat  back  to  the  starving  and  abandoned  Frenchman. 
Instead  they  wasted  two  valuable  days  in  gorging  them- 
selves and  smoking  the  flesh  for  their  own  journey. 

For  days  they  followed  the  course  of  the  Kahuinari, 
hugging  its  right  bank,  and  in  this  way  happened  across  a 
Colombian  half-breed,  from  whom  they  sought  assistance. 
The  Colombian  took  them  to  his  house  near  the  Avio 
Parana  but  would  not  grant  them  even  food  until  they 
paid  for  it  with  the  rifles  they  carried.  The  idea  of  suc- 
couring Robuchon  was  far  removed  from  his  philosophy. 
The  boys,  then,  having  surrendered  their  rifles  in  return  for 
the  stores  they  so  much  needed,  made  the  narrow  crossing 


8 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


from  the  Avio  Parana  to  the  Papunya  River,  and  followed 
that  stream  without  deviation  to  its  junction  with  the 
river  Issa.  Turning  backward  up  the  left  bank  of  the  Issa, 
they  reached  the  military  station  at  the  mouth  of  the  Igara 
Parana  and  there  told  their  tale. 

When  at  last  a Relief  Expedition  was  made  up,  it  con- 
sisted of  three  negroes — J ohn  Brown  and  his  comrades — and 
seventeen  half-breeds.  The  party  left  on  its  search  for 
Robuchon  thirty-seven  days  after  he  had  been  abandoned 
at  the  mouth  of  the  Kahuinari.  It  took  ten  days  to  reach 
the  junction  of  the  Avio  Parana  and  the  Kahuinari,  and 
twenty-one  days  more  to  arrive  at  the  camp  on  the  Japura. 
It  had  taken  ten  weeks  to  bring  help.  The  relief  party 
found  some  tools,  some  clothes,  a few  tins  of  coffee,  a little 
salt,  and  a camera.  There  was  no  trace  of  Robuchon,  of 
the  Indian  woman,  or  of  the  dog.  On  a tree  was  nailed  a 
paper,  but  the  written  message  had  been  washed  by  the  rain 
and  bleached  by  the  sun  till  it  was  illegible.  Robuchon’s 
last  message  can  never  be  known. 

The  relief  party  divided  into  two  companies  for  the 
journey  back — one  section  of  twelve,  the  other  of  eight  men. 
The  larger  party  arrived  in  the  rubber  district  six  weeks 
later.  The  smaller  party,  with  the  three  blacks,  was  lost 
in  the  bush.  Five  months  and  a half  afterwards  five  sur- 
vivors attained  safety.  The  story  of  their  misery  is  a 
chapter  in  the  history  of  Amazonian  travel  that  may  never 
be  written. 

Two  and  a half  years  afterwards  I was  returning  from  a 
disappointing  trip  to  the  Karahone  country.  There  were 
persistent  rumours  that  Robuchon  was  held  a prisoner  by 
the  Indians  north  of  the  Japura.  I determined  to  see  if 
any  evidence  could  be  found  to  settle  his  fate.  I had  in  my 
party  one  of  the  negroes  who  had  accompanied  the  French 
explorer.  We  journeyed  overland  southward  through  the 
Muenane-Resigero  country  till  we  reached  the  Kahuinari, 
thence  by  canoe  to  the  Japura  River.  The  Japura  at  this 
point  is  about  a rifle-shot  in  width — 2500  to  3000  yards 
across.  Some  three  miles  below  this  point  on  the  right 
bank,  a little  way  back  from  the  river,  was  a small  clearing. 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


9 


In  it  were  three  poles  marking  the  site  of  a deserted  shelter. 
John  Brown,  my  servant  and  formerly  Robuchon’s,  said  it 
was  the  last  camp  of  Eugene  Robuchon. 

We  made  camp  in  the  clearing.  A little  way  inland  I 
found  an  abandoned  Indian  house,  but  all  indications 
pointed  to  its  having  been  deserted  many  years  before. 
Half  buried  in  the  clearing  I discovered  eight  broken  photo- 
graph plates  in  a packet,  and  the  eye-piece  of  a sextant. 
Other  evidence  of  civilised  occupation  there  was  none.  At 
some  little  distance  my  Indians  detected  traces  of  a path, 
and  though  to  me  it  seemed  only  an  old  animal  track,  they 
maintained  it  was  a man-made  road.  Cutting  along  the 
line  of  this  path,  at  the  end  of  a hard  day’s  work  we  emerged 
upon  a second  clearing  and  the  ruins  of  a shelter.  After 
careful  searching  we  unearthed  a rusty  and  much-hacked 
machete  or  trade  knife.  There  our  discoveries  ended.  The 
path  went  no  farther. 

We  encountered  no  Indians  in  our  search.  On  further 
investigation  it  appeared  that  there  are  none  in  the  vicinity, 
and  the  nearest  to  the  deserted  camp  on  the  south  of  the 
river  are  the  Boro  living  on  the  Pama  River,  forty  or  fifty 
miles  away. 

Believing  that  the  most  probable  route  of  escape  was 
down  the  Japura,  I journeyed  slowly  eastward  almost  to 
the  mouth  of  the  Apaporis.  We  then  turned  and  came 
back,  searching  the  right  bank.  Throughout  this  time  we 
found  no  Indians  and  no  signs  of  Indians.  On  the  bank, 
about  a mile  and  a half  below  Robuchon’s  last  camp, 
we  found  the  remains  of  a broken  and  battered  raft.  It 
had  evidently  been  carried  down  in  full  river,  and  left 
stranded  on  the  fall  of  the  waters.  Brown  recognised  the 
wreck  as  that  of  the  raft  which  the  Frenchman’s  party  had 
built  after  the  loss  of  the  canoe.  But  it  afforded  no  clue. 

Much  as  I should  have  liked  at  this  time  to  pursue  my 
investigations  among  the  Indians  of  the  left,  or  north,  bank 
of  the  river,  I had  perforce  to  give  up  further  progress  for 
the  time  being  on  account  of  the  mutinous  hostility  of  my 
boys.  Nothing  would  persuade  them  that  they  would  not 
be  eaten  up  if  they  crossed  the  great  river  at  this  point. 


10 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


Foiled,  therefore,  in  my  attempts  to  learn  anything  on 
the  scene  of  Robuchon’s  disappearance,  I determined  to 
prosecute  inquiries  among  the  Boro  scattered  about  the 
peninsula  bounded  by  the  Pama,  the  Kahuinari,  and  the 
Japura.  But  here  also  no  amount  of  examination  could 
elicit  any  information  as  to  the  explorer,  the  woman,  or  the 
dog.  I was  particularly  impressed  by  the  fact  that  the 
existence  of  the  Great  Dane — an  object  of  awe  to  the  Indians 
— had  left  no  legend  among  the  natives.  Robuchon  himself 
wrote  of  his  hound  : “ My  dog,  as  always,  entered  the  house 
first.  The  great  size  of  Othello,  his  flashing  teeth,  and 
close  inspection  of  strangers,  his  blood-shot  eyes  and  bristling 
hair  invariably  inspired  fear  and  respect  among  the  Indians.” 
Had  such  an  animal  fallen  into  the  hands  of  the  Boro,  I feel 
certain  its  fame  would  have  outlived  that  of  any  chance 
European  who  might  have  become  their  prisoner,  how- 
ever much  they  desired  to  conceal  their  participation  in 
his  murder.  My  own  Boro  boys  could  find  no  record 
among  their  compatriots  of  the  presence  of  Othello  or  his 
master. 

After  this  we  proceeded  in  a northerly  direction,  and, 
crossing  the  Japura,  visited  the  Boro  tribe  located  on  the 
north  bank  of  the  river,  between  the  Wama  and  the  Ira 
tributaries.  The  chief  of  this  tribe  had  married  a Menimehe 
woman  who,  curiously  enough,  remained  on  terms  of  friend- 
ship with  her  parent  tribe.  The  chief  informed  me  that  in 
the  Long,  Long  Before — from  reference  to  the  size  of  his  son 
at  the  time,  I calculated  about  three  years  previously — 
the  Menimehe  had  captured  a white  man  with  face  hairy 
as  a monkey’s.  As  Robuchon  was  wearing  a beard  at  the 
time  of  his  disappearance  this  seemed  to  present  a clue,  but 
as  the  Menimehe  refused  to  confirm  the  statement,  and 
there  was  no  mention  of  the  woman  or  of  the  dog,  it  added 
but  little  to  the  evidence  of  his  fate. 

The  testimony  was  further  weakened  by  the  knowledge 
that  about  that  time  either  the  Menimehe  or  the  Yahuna 
destroyed  a Colombian  settlement  near  the  mouth  of  the 
Apaporis  River,  and  made  prisoners  of  white  men.  What- 
ever the  truth  of  the  bearded  white  man,  there  was  certainly 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


ii 


no  memory  remaining  of  the  Indian  woman  nor  of  Othello, 
the  Great  Dane. 

On  my  return  to  the  Rubber  Belt  I learned  that  Robuchon 
had  been  lost  on  a previous  expedition  for  a considerable 
period,  and  had  lived  during  that  time  with  Indians. 
Although  this  had  occurred  in  the  regions  south  of  the 
Amazon  on  the  Peru-Brazil-Bolivian  frontier,  somewhere 
in  the  neighbourhood  of  the  Acre  River,  the  general  haziness 
of  natives  with  respect  to  place  and  time  may  have  accounted 
for  the  rumours  of  captivity  among  the  semi-civilised  Indians 
of  the  Rubber  Belt,  which  set  me  on  a fruitless  search 
among  the  Indians  of  the  Kahuinari- Japura. 

To  sum  up  the  evidence  with  respect  to  the  fate  of 
Robuchon,  it  seems  to  me  that  he  did  not  die  of  starvation 
at  the  mouth  of  the  Kahuinari,  because  a certain  amount  of 
food-stuff  was  found  by  the  first  Relief  Expedition  at  the 
site  of  the  camp,  but  no  signs  of  human  remains.  The 
illegible  message  nailed  to  the  tree  suggests  that  he  vacated 
the  spot  and  endeavoured  to  leave  information  as  to  his 
route  for  those  who  might  come  to  his  relief. 

Robuchon  had  five  courses  open  to  him  once  he  decided 
on  abandoning  the  camp  : 

1.  He  could  retrace  his  steps  up  the  J apura.  With  respect 
to  this  means  of  escape,  I consider  it  extremely  improbable 
that  he  would  attempt  to  return  against  stream  over  the 
route  which  he  had  already  traversed  with  such  difficulty 
when  aided  by  the  current  and  the  full  strength  of  his  party. 

2.  He  could  proceed  across  the  Japura  to  the  country  of 
the  Menimehe.  He  was  unlikely,  however,  to  cross  that 
river,  owing  to  the  bad  name  enjoyed  by  the  Menimehe.  He 
could  not  count  upon  a relief  expedition  following  him  there. 

3.  He  could  journey  up  the  Kahuinari.  He  could  hardly 
negotiate  the  difficulties  of  the  upstream  journey  though 
with  the  inadequate  assistance  of  a single  woman.  He  was 
aware  of  the  existence  of  unfriendly  tribes  on  the  banks. 
My  inquiries  among  the  Pama  Boro  yielded  no  trace  of  his 
ever  having  been  seen  upon  the  river.  If  he  had  made  his 
way  along  the  right  bank  of  that  river,  probably  some 
evidence  of  him  would  have  been  found  by  the  relief  party. 


12 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


4.  He  could  have  voyaged  down  the  Japura  in  a canoe 
or  upon  a raft.  It  would  have  been  very  hazardous  to  have 
attempted  this  alone — practically  hopeless.  In  any  event, 
if  he  did  make  the  attempt,  he  failed  to  reach  the  nearest 
rubber  settlement. 

5.  There  remains  one  means  of  escape — by  an  overland 
march.  It  would  appear  that  he  adopted  this  method,  but 
only  without  any  idea  of  permanent  relief,  in  desperate  search 
of  temporary  assistance.  The  line  of  the  Kahuinari  was  the 
obvious  route  for  a rescue  party.  Robuchon,  however, 
was  starving,  and  the  native  track  promised  a path  to  a 
native  house  and  food. 

I presume  he  was  located  by  a band  of  visiting  Indians, 
captured,  and  either  murdered  or  carried  away  in  captivity 
to  their  haunts  on  the  north  bank  of  the  Japura.  I suggest 
the  probability  of  the  Indians  coming  from  the  north  bank 
up  the  Japura,  because,  so  far  as  I could  learn,  it  was  not 
the  custom  of  the  Pama  Boro  to  journey  to  the  mouth  of 
the  Kahuinari,  since  they  could  obtain  all  they  needed  from 
the  river  at  points  more  easily  and  more  speedily  accessible 
to  them.  There  were  no  Indians  resident  in  the  vicinity, 
but  Indians  from  across  the  Japura  made  excursions  at  low 
river  in  search  of  game  or  of  turtles  and  their  eggs.1 

It  is  upon  one  of  those  chance  bands  that  reluctantly  I 
am  forced  to  lay  the  responsibility  for  the  death  of  Eugene 
Robuchon  in  March  or  April  1906. 

This  was  little  enough  to  add  to  the  ascertained  fact  of 
Robuchon’s  end,  but  such  as  it  was  it  brushed  aside  some 
of  the  mystery,  and  proved  of  interest  to  the  members  of 
the  French  Geographical  Society  and  to  the  relatives  of  the 
lost  explorer.2 

After  concluding  my  investigations  among  the  Boro  in 
the  vicinity  of  the  Pama  River,  I again  crossed  the  Japura 
River  near  the  Boro  settlement  on  the  north  of  that  river, 
and  proceeded  eastward  into  the  country  of  the  Menimehe. 
This  country  appears  more  sparsely  populated  than  the 

1 Turtle  eggs  are,  curiously  enough,  not  considered  foetal. 

2 For  ray  share  I had  the  honour  to  receive,  through  the  Secretary  of 
State  for  Foreign  Affairs,  the  thanks  of  the  French  Government. 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


13 


Kahuinari  districts,  and  the  manners  and  customs  of  these 
people  vary  considerably  from  the  tribes  inhabiting  the 
country  to  the  south. 

From  the  most  easterly  point  I decided  to  proceed  in  a 
north-westerly  direction  with  a view  to  striking  the  upper 
waters  of  the  Uaupes  River  eventually.  It  was  in  this 
neighbourhood  that  I developed  beriberi ; and,  owing  to 
the  swelling  of  my  legs,  which  were  covered  with  wounds 
and  sores,  I was  only  able  to  walk  with  difficulty,  although  I 
had  no  pain.  My  brain  was  numbed  as  well  as  my  legs.  I 
slept  at  every  opportunity,  did  not  want  to  eat,  and  seemed 
to  be  under  the  effect  of  some  delusive  narcotic.  Yet  I 
never  failed  to  take  all  necessary  precautions — it  was  mechani- 
cal, a mere  habit.  Stores  were  running  short,  owing  to 
their  bad  condition,  and  my  boys  and  carriers  were  becoming 
mutffious.  Game  was  scarce,  and  the  few  native  houses  we 
encountered  were  for  the  most  part  deserted  ; what  Indians 
we  came  across  were  surly  and  sullen,  and  appeared  latently 
hostile. 

I decided  to  return,  overcome  by  the  argument  of  Brown 
that  if  I did  not  do  so  the  boys  would  go,  so  we  turned  back 
to  the  east  and  south  of  the  original  line,  and  proceeded 
overland  by  way  of  the  Kuhuinari  River  to  the  Igara  Parana, 
and  thence  to  the  Kara  Parana  by  river.  Arriving  at  the 
latter  river  at  the  end  of  February,  and  finding  that  the 
steamer  for  Iquitos  would  not  start  for  some  time,  I made 
a short  trip  among  the  tribes  of  this  river. 

By  reference  to  the  sketch-map  it  will  be  seen  that  from 
the  time  I left  Encanto  on  my  arrival  from  Iquitos  to  my 
arrival  at  the  same  place,  bound  for  Iquitos,  was  approxi- 
mately seven  months. 

The  difficulties  in  the  way  of  obtaining  information  are 
such  that  it  is  only  those  who  sink  for  the  nonce  all  inherited 
and  acquired  ideas  of  superiority,  manners,  and  customs 
who  can  be  successful.  As  a consequence,  the  stranger  will 
have  to  journey  with  savages,  eat  with  savages,  sleep  with 
savages,  from  the  moment  he  seeks  to  penetrate  their  land. 
Watchfulness  night  and  day  must  be  the  price  of  any 
desire  to  understand  the  native  in  his  home.  The  field- 


M 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


worker  must  subordinate  every  previous  and  personal 
conception.  Native  justice  must  be  his  justice.  Almost 
necessarily  native  ethics  must  be  his  ethics.  He  is  no 
missionary  seeking  to  convert  those  he  meets  to  ideas 
of  his  own  ; rather  is  he  a learner,  an  inquirer,  eager  to 
understand  the  thoughts  that  inspire  them,  to  analyse  the 
beliefs  they  themselves  have  gathered.  Then  there  is  no 
common  medium  of  language.  Sometimes  a native  speaking 
a tongue  with  which  the  traveller  has  a passing  acquaintance 
can  make  himself  understood  in  another  tribal  language 
whereof  the  white  man  is  blankly  ignorant,  and  then  some 
approximation  of  the  truth  sought  to  be  conveyed  is  arrived 
at  tortuously.  For  example,  I had  a Witoto  Indian  who 
understood  a little  Andoke,  and  by  way  of  Brown  the 
Barbadian  carried  to  me  much  information  of  these  little- 
known  Indians.  John  Brown  was  here  invaluable  as  he 
knew  Witoto  well  and  Boro  to  some  purpose.  But  much 
of  the  appended  vocabularies  had  to  be  gathered  by  the 
crude  method  of  pointing  to  an  object.  Having  noted  the 
word  phonetically,  one  had  to  get  it  confirmed  by  trial. 

Travelling  in  the  bush  is  a dreary  monotony  of  discomfort 
and  ever  - present  danger.  There  are  weary  stretches  of 
inundated  country,  sweating  swamp.  You  pass  with  an 
unexpected  plunge  from  ankle-deep  mire  to  unbottomed 
main  stream.  The  eternal  sludge,  sludge  of  travel  without 
a stone  or  honest  yard  of  solid  ground  makes  one  long  for 
the  lesser  strain  of  more  definite  dangers  or  of  more  obtrusive 
horrors.  The  horror  of  Amazonian  travel  is  the  horror  of 
the  unseen.  It  is  not  the  presence  of  unfriendly  natives 
that  wears  one  down,  it  is  the  absence  of  all  sign  of  human 
life.  One  happens  upon  an  Indian  house  or  settlement, 
but  it  is  deserted,  empty,  in  ruins.  The  natives  have 
vanished,  and  it  is  only  the  silent  message  of  a poisoned 
arrow  or  a leaf-roofed  pitfall  that  tells  of  their  existence 
somewhere  in  the  tangled  undergrowth  of  the  neighbourhood. 

On  the  trail  one  speedily  learns  the  significance  of  the 
phrase  “ Indian  file.”  Here  are  none  of  the  advance 
guards,  flank  guards,  and  rear  guards  that  are  needed  to 
penetrate  unfriendly  country  in  other  lands.  The  first  man 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


i5 


hacks  a way  for  those  who  follow,  and  the  bush  is  left  as  a 
wall  on  either  side  that  is  as  inscrutable  to  the  possible 
enemy  on  the  flank  as  to  the  advancing  party.  On  account 
of  such  conditions  I should  say,  from  my  experience  of  bush 
travel  in  these  regions,  that  the  whole  party  should  rarely  if 
ever  exceed  twenty-five  in  number.  On  this  principle  it 
will  be  seen  that  the  smaller  the  quantity  of  baggage  carried 
the  greater  will  be  the  number  of  rifles  available  for  the 
security  of  the  expedition. 

The  difficulty  of  an  efficient  food  supply  is  very  great. 
Game  is  always  hard  to  shoot  on  account  of  the  density  of 
the  bush,  and  in  many  parts  appears  to  be  non-existent. 
Preserved  goods  in  sealed  cases,  of  convenient  size  for 
porterage,  should  be  taken  from  Europe.  My  failure  to 
carry  out  my  original  intentions  was  due  more  than  anything 
else  to  the  fact  that  my  supplies  were  purchased  in  the 
country,  and  50  per  cent  proved  unfit  for  consumption. 
The  country  where  supplies  must  be  husbanded  has  little 
enough  of  food  that  is  appetising  to  offer.  Fish,  if  plentiful, 
are  hard  to  catch  for  the  uninitiated.  One  hungers  for  the 
occasional  tapir  or  peccary,  the  joys  of  monkey- meat,  and 
an  incautious,  though  unpalatable,  parrot,  and  in  the  days 
of  real  distress  may  be  glad  to  fall  back  on  frogs,  snakes, 
and  palm-heart.  The  real  fear  of  starvation,  after  perhaps 
the  ghastly  dread  of  being  lost,  is  the  great  cause  of  anxiety 
to  the  traveller  in  the  Amazons. 

As  for  shelter,— a tent  is  an  encumbrance, — an  open  screen 
of  rough  palm  thatch  can  be  erected  in  a very  short  time,  and 
is  all  that  is  necessary,  although  not  all  that  is  to  be  desired. 
The  shelter  is  a poor  one  that  does  not  prevent  the  dews 
and  the  inevitable  rain  from  chilling  one  to  the  bone. 

Clothes  for  the  Amazons  are  not  designed  with  a view  to 
fashion  or  appearance.  In  the  past,  continental  explorers 
have  introduced  some  interesting  fashions  in  ducks  and 
khaki,  but  travelling  through  a country  where  one’s  life  is 
passed  in  a bath  of  perspiration,  their  distinction  of  appear- 
ance yields  to  the  simple  comfort  of  the  native’s  nudity. 
In  search  of  a compromise,  I have  found  that  a thin  flannel 
suit  of  pyjamas  with  the  trouser-legs  tucked  into  the  socks, 


i6 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


and  a pair  of  carpet  slippers  laced  over  the  instep,  best  meet 
the  requirements  of  the  region.  Ordinary  boots  are  a posi- 
tive danger  on  account  of  the  narrow  and  sometimes  slippery 
tree-trunks  over  which  one  clambers  uneasily.  A small 
towel  round  the  neck  to  wipe  away  the  perspiration  is  a 
great  comfort.  For  head-gear  a cloth  cap  or  “ smasher  ” 
hat  suffices. 

A long  knife  or  cutlass  must  be  carried,  and,  personally, 
I invariably  carried  a revolver,  while  the  gun-bearer  should 
always  be  at  hand  with  a rifle  or  scatter-gun.  A blanket, 
sleeping-bag,  and  waterproof  sheet  of  course  must  be  taken, 
with  the  other  comforts,  medical  and  hygienic,  common  to 
all  expeditions. 

The  drawings  that  appear  in  this  volume  are  either  taken 
from  photographs  or  from  actual  trophies  and  articles  in 
my  possession.  The  photographs  are  a record  of  industry 
and  patience.  Films  I found  useless  in  this  climate,  and 
plates  alone  materialised.  It  must  be  remembered,  also, 
that  every  time  plates  have  to  be  changed  it  is  necessary  to 
build  a small  house,  and  double  thatch  and  treble  thatch  to 
prevent  the  entrance  of  any  light.  Even  then  the  experi- 
enced do  their  work  at  night. 

The  difficulty  of  posing  and  overcoming  the  objection 
of  the  native  subject  will  be  at  once  realised.  Too  many 
groups  have  been  draped  by  explorers  in  the  unaccustomed 
decencies  of  camp  equipment,  though  it  has  become  an 
essential  of  the  country — climatic  and  psychological — that 
the  women  walk  abroad  naked  and  the  men  unembarrassed 
by  more  than  a loin-cloth. 

The  maps  cannot  pretend  to  be  more  than  the  roughest 
approximate  sketch-maps.  When  absence  of  a horizon  and 
the  density  of  the  bush  are  realised,  it  will  be  obvious  that 
they  can  be  nothing  more.  It  is  hoped  that  they  will  suffice 
to  give  some  idea  of  the  general  trend  of  the  country  and  the 
location  of  the  various  language-groups. 


PLATE  II. 


HOUSE  IN  THE  'RUBBER  BELT,’  ISSA  VALLEY 


CftABfER  ft 


Topography — Rivers — Floods  and  rainfall — Climate — Soil — Animal  and 
vegetable  life — Birds — Flowers — Forest  scenery — Tracks — Bridges — 
Insect  pests — Reptiles — Silence  in  the  forest — Travelling  in  the  bush 
— Depressing  effects  of  the  forest — Lost  in  the  forest — Starvation. 

Although  the  Amazons  have  been  known  to  Europe  for 
fully  four  hundred  years,  exploration  has  been  confined 
almost  entirely  to  the  main  river  and  its  great  tributaries. 

* Little  addition  has  been  made  to  the  information  possessed 
by  Sir  Walter  Raleigh  in  the  three  hundred  years  that 
have  elapsed  since  his  death.  The  rivers  certainly  are 
known  and  charted,  yet  the  land  beyond  their  banks  is 
almost  as  much  a land  of  mystery  in  the  twentieth  century 
as  it  was  in  the  days  of  Queen  Elizabeth.  It  is  possible  to 
spend  a lifetime  in  navigating  the  Amazon,1  and  to  know 
nothing  more  of  its  2,722,000  square  miles  of  basin  than  can 
be  peered  at  through  the  curtain  of  vegetation  which  drapes 
the  main  streams.  Behind  that  veil  lies  the  fascination  of 
Amazonian  travel. 

We  are  not  here  concerned  with  the  scanty  records 
history  offers  of  these  vast  regions,  nor,  for  our  immediate 
purposes,  is  it  needful  to  inquire  into  the  conditions  and 
features  of  the  Amazon  watershed  as  a whole,  except  in  so 
far  as  they  differ  from  or  resemble  those  of  my  field  of 
exploration,  the  tracts  between  the  middle  Issa  and  Japura 
Rivers,  and  in  their  vicinity.  Roughly  speaking,  this  lies 
in  that  debatable  land  where  the  frontiers  of  Brazil  meet 
those  of  Peru,  Colombia,  and — perhaps — Ecuador,  a country 

1 Steamers  have  been  on  the  Amazon  since  1853,  and  navigation  is 
continuous  throughout  the  year  (cf.  Brazilian  Year-Book). 

17 


C 


i8 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


claimed  in  part  by  the  three  latter,  but  administered  by 
none.  Here  the  dead  level  of  the  lower  Amazonian  plains 
imperceptibly  acquires  a more  decided  tilt,  the  trend  of 
the  land  from  the  great  Andean  water-parting  on  the  west 
and  north-west  being  south-east  to  the  mighty  river  on 
the  south,  consequently  these  north-western  affluents  of  the 
Amazon  flow  in  more  or  less  parallel  lines  from  the  north- 
west to  the  south-east.  It  is  the  rivers  that  dominate  this 
country,  the  mountains,  those  primal  determinants,  are 
only  distant  influences,  snow-topped  mysteries  but  dimly 
imagined  on  the  far  horizon  from  some  upstanding  outcrop, 
a savannah  where  momentarily  a perspective  may  be  gained 
over  and  beyond  the  illimitable  forest.1 

On  the  south  of  the  tracks  here  dealt  with  the  Amazon 
slowly  sweeps  its  muddy  yellow  waters,  500,000  cubic  feet 
per  second,  towards  the  ocean.  On  the  north  the  Uaupes 
River  flows  to  join  the  Rio  Negro.  Between  the  Uaupes 
and  the  Amazon  the  Rio  Caqueta,  or  Japura  River,  runs 
south-east,  due  east,  and  south  to  the  main  stream,  and 
almost  parallel  with  it  the  Putumayo,  or  Issa,  gathers  the 
waters  of  the  Kara  Parana  and  the  Igara  Parana,  both 
on  its  northern,  that  is  to  say  its  left  bank,  and  joins 
the  Amazon  where  the  main  river  turns  sharply  south 
471  miles  below  Iquitos.  West  again,  the  Napo  drains 
down  to  join  the  great  water-way  2300  miles  from  the 
sea.  Of  the  Napo  much  has  been  written  since  Orellano 
sailed  down  it  from  Peru,  homeward  bound  to  Spain  in 
1521,  and  it  may  be  left  outside  the  bounds  of  our 
inquiry.  With  the  Issa  and  Japura  we  must  deal  in  some 
detail,  but  of  the  Uaupes  and  Rio  Negro  a few  words  will 
suffice. 

Rapids  and  cataracts  bar  the  navigation  of  the  Uaupes, 
the  chief  tributary  if  not,  as  some  would  have  it,  the  main 
stream  of  the  Negro,  until  it  is,  according  to  Wallace, 
“ perhaps  unsurpassed  for  the  difficulties  and  dangers  of 
its  navigation.”  2 

1 I never  saw  the  Andes  actually  from  these  districts,  but  the  suggestion 
is  always  there,  they  are  seen  in  the  mind’s  eye  ; an  ultimate,  if  invisible, 
limit  to  what  would  otherwise  seem  more  than  illimitable. 

5 Wallace,  p.  246. 


PLATE  III 


BANK  OF  MAIN  AMAZON  STREAM  IN  THE  VICINITY  OF  THE  MOUTH  OF  THE  JAPURA  RIVER 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


i9 


Wallace  estimated  the  country  to  be  not  more  than 
1000  feet  above  sea-level.  I should  judge  it  to  be  con- 
siderably less,  by  the  trend  of  the  country  to  the  south  of 
it.  But  even  here  I may  be  mistaken,  as  my  aneroid  was 
useless,  for  undiscovered  reasons,  and  my  opinion  is  based 
simply  on  the  force  of  the  currents  of  the  rivers,  the  number 
and  depth  of  the  rapids,  and  the  distances  to  the  main 
river  and  thence  to  the  sea.  The  height  above  sea-level 
cannot  be  great,  for  the  tides  are  felt  at  Obydos,  more 
than  half-way  from  the  ocean  to  the  mouth  of  the  Rio 
Negro,  and  there  is  no  abrupt  rise  from  the  Obydos  levels ; 
indeed  the  slope  of  the  land  is  so  slight  that  in  the  middle 
reaches  of  the  main  river  during  wet  seasons  the  floods 
spread  for  twenty  miles,  and  there  is  no  visible  current. 

The  Uaupes,  though  lighter  than  the  majority  of  southern 
tributaries  of  the  Negro,  is  what  is  known  as  a black  water 
river,  while  most  of  the  rivers  flowing  in  on  the  northern 
bank  are  white  water  rivers.  This  peculiarity,  which  may 
be  as  marked  as  the  difference  between  ink  and  milk,  is  due 
apparently  to  the  variety  of  soil  in  the  country  drained  by 
the  rivers.  The  chief  tributaries  of  the  Uaupes,  the  Itiya 
and  the  Uniya,  are  both  white  water  streams.  Spruce 
notes  that  fish  are  scarcer  in  black  than  in  white  water 
streams,1  and  attributes  it  to  the  absence  of  vegetation. 
This  may  be  true  in  part  of  the  Negro,  but  it  is  not  true, 
I think,  of  other  rivers.  Certainly  these  have  some  sort  of 
fish,  for  I have  seen  them  rise.  One  species  is  known  to 
feed  on  a variety  of  laurel  berry  very  plentiful  on  some  of 
the  river-banks. 

The  Rio  Negro  itself,  the  waters  of  which  are  dead  black, 
is  navigable  for  more  than  a third  of  its  course  to  vessels 
of  a 4 feet  draught  even  in  the  dry  season,  and  communica- 
tion is  possible  from  its  upper  waters  with  the  great  northern 
artery  of  the  Orinoco,  through  the  Casiquiari,  the  most 
important  of  the  natural  canals  that  abound  throughout 
the  Amazon  regions. 

The  Issa,  or  Putumayo — the  Peruvian  name  is  perhaps 
better  known  than  the  Brazilian,  the  true  geographical 
1 Spruce,  ii.  379-380. 


20 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


one — is  the  first  tributary  of  importance  to  join  the  Amazon 
after  it  has  entered  Brazilian  territory.  Of  its  1028  miles 
only  93,  according  to  the  Brazilian  Year-Book,  are  not 
navigable  by  steamers.  This  exceeds  the  truth,  for  there 
is  practically  no  communication  with  Colombia  or  Ecuador 
by  this  route,  as  the  statement  would  imply.  In  the  upper 
reaches  of  the  Issa  rock  and  shingle  are  to  be  found,  while 
300  miles  down  stream  hardly  a stone  is  to  be  seen.  The 
water  is  very  muddy,  and  the  current  variable  as  the 
depth.  Now  it  will  be  a swirling  storm-fed  torrent,  the 
turbid  water  burdened  with  a wild  flotsam  of  forest  trees 
and  matted  vegetation,  cutting  into  the  soft  layers  of 
vegetable  mould  that  form  its  banks,  and  rise  above  it  as 
much  as  25  feet  in  places  ; anon  it  is  a sluggish  stream 
that  spreads  oilily  nowhither,  with  scarce  a ripple  over  the 
deep  alluvial  deposits  of  its  bed.  This  river  is  at  its 
lowest  in  February  and  March.  At  its  juncture  with  the 
Amazon  looking  upstream  from  the  main  water-way,  the 
Issa  is  the  more  imposing  of  the  two,  for  its  course  lies 
wide  and  fully  exposed,  while  the  Amazon  bends  sharply, 
and  gives  the  impression  that  it  and  not  its  affluent  is  the 
tributary  stream.  Robuchon  calculated  that  its  breadth 
there  was  600  metres,  the  depth  8,  and  the  current  2J 
miles  an  hour.  He  states  very  truly  that  landslides  often 
occur  on  the  banks  of  these  rivers,  and  that  such  destruction 
of  the  bank,  together  with  the  quick  rise  and  fall  of  the 
streams,  may  so  alter  the  appearance  of  any  stretch  as  to 
render  it  quite  unrecognisable,  even  within  a few  hours. 
Special  mention  is  made  by  him  of  the  Papunya  River,  that 
enters  on  the  left  bank  of  the  Issa.  Forty  miles  from  the 
Papunya  is  the  Parana  Miri,1  a river  with  very  black  water 
and  a large  group  of  islands  at  its  mouth.  Many  of  the 
islands  in  these  rivers  are  not  stationary,  they  are  floating 
masses  of  soil  and  vegetation,  torn  away  from  the  banks 
when  the  river  is  in  spate.  They  may  be  as  much  as  a 

1 Robuchon’s  estimate  of  distances  is  471  geographical  miles  from 
Iquitos  to  the  mouth  of  the  Issa  ; thence  to  the  Cotuhe,  which  he  places  at 
20  53'  12"  S.  and  69°  41'  10"  W.,  150  geographical  miles.  From  the  Cotuhe 
to  the  Igara  Parana,  252  miles,  a total  distance  of  873  geographical  miles 
from  Iquitos  to  the  Igara  Parana. 


PLATE  IV 


LANDSCAPE  ON  UPPER  AMAZON  MAIN  STREAM 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


21 


hundred  yards  from  bank  to  bank,  and  birds  are  to  be  found 
living  upon  them. 

The  Igara  Parana  runs  into  the  Issa  where  that  river 
makes  a horse-shoe  bend,1  the  junction  being  on  the  inner 
side  of  the  horse-shoe.  The  breadth  of  the  stream  at  its 
mouth  is  161  metres.  The  water  is  clearer  than  that  of 
the  Issa,  and  the  current  slower,  never  more  than  3 miles 
an  hour.  Some  220  miles  upstream  there  is  an  important 
waterfall,  known  as  La  Chorrera,  or  the  Big  Falls.  The 
Igara  Parana  becomes  vary  narrow  and  most  tortuous  as 
it  nears  them,  and  is  only  30  metres  wide  at  its  exit  from 
Big  Falls  Bay.  This  is  a huge  pool  almost  as  wide  as 
it  is  long,  with  a narrow  exit  at  one  end,  and  a succession 
of  cascades  at  the  other.  These  falls  are  impassable  in  boats, 
and  traffic  with  the  upper  river  can  only  be  carried  on  by 
land  portage.  Much  debris  of  rocks  and  river-borne  tree- 
trunks  obstructs  the  narrow  passage  above  the  falls,  which 
are  given  by  Robuchon  as  having  a total  length  of  120 
metres  and  a width  of  18  metres.  The  waters  descend  over 
a series  of  wide  rocky  steps,  worn  flat  and  smooth  by 
the  ceaseless  friction.  Masses  of  stone  line  the  right  bank, 
and  rise  perpendicularly  from  the  water.  This  is  the  only 
part  of  the  country  where  I have  seen  rocks  and  stones 
in  any  quantity. 

The  upper  reaches  of  the  river  are  distinctly  more  pictur- 
esque than  its  lower  waters.  The  almost  level  banks,  with 
their  monotonous  succession  of  forest  trees,  grow  gradually 
steeper,  till  the  sandstone  cliffs  rise  like  a fortification 
above  the  fringe  of  vegetation  that  encroaches  on  the  high- 
water  mark.  Presently  the  river  winds  in  and  out  between 
shelving  hills,  tree-clad  to  the  very  margin  of  the  water. 
Between  the  Igara  Parana  and  the  Kara  Parana  the  country 
is  a perfect  switchback  of  hills  and  ridges,  with  a stream  in 
every  gully.  The  steepness  of  these  valleys,  with  a pitch 
perhaps  of  250  or  30°,  does  not  permit  the  surface  water  to 
lodge  and  form  swamp  or  morass,  in  contrast  to  the  water- 
logged plains  of  the  lower  rivers.  Immediately  on  the  left 
bank  of  the  Igara  Parana,  and  in  the  vicinity  of  the  Big 

1 Robuchon  gives  latitude  i°  43'  9*  S.,  longitude  710  53'  36*  W. 


22 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


Falls,  the  country  continues  to  be  hilly,  but  to  the  north- 
east it  is  more  open,  and  the  bush  is  less  obstructive,  though 
its  density  varies  immensely.  Similar  diversified  scenery 
is  to  be  found  on  the  upper  waters  of  the  Japura. 

The  Kahuanari,  a considerable  tributary  on  the  south 
bank  of  the  Japura,  drains  the  divide  that  intervenes  be- 
tween that  river  and  the  Igara  Parana.  It  is  subject  to 
sudden  floods,  which  wash  down  large  quantities  of  forest 
debris.  I have  seen  it  rise  twenty  feet  in  a day,  and 
afterwards  subside  as  quickly. 

The  floods  are  not  to  be  wondered  at  when  the  tremend- 
ous rainfall  of  these  regions  is  considered.  The  question  is 
never  if  it  will  rain,  but  when  and  for  how  long  it  will  be 
fine.  Rain  is  certain  in  a land  which  has  but  a few  days 
clear  of  it  in  every  twelve  months.  Five  days,  a fortnight, 
that,  all  told,  is  the  extent  of  dry  weather  to  be  looked  for 
in  this  country.  The  dry  season  is  but  a name.  It  is  dry 
only  in  comparison  with  the  wetter  months  from  March  to 
August.  The  upper  valley  of  the  Amazon  has  a three-day 
winter  at  our  midsummer — June  24,  25,  26 — so  it  is  said, 
and  certainly  I noted  a very  decided  drop  in  the  temperature 
of  these  days  in  1908.  Snow  is  unknown,  and  hail  not 
common.  Despite  the  daily  rain  the  turquoise  blue  of  the 
sky  is  seldom  long  hidden,  though  from  March  to  June 
leaden  skies  portend  rain,  and  seldom  fail  to  make  good 
their  portent.  During  the  dry  season  the  rain  if  it  be 
frequent  is  never  continuous.  Almost  every  day,  between 
three  and  four  in  the  afternoon  and  two  and  five  in  the 
morning,  heavy  clouds  will  roll  up,  a preliminary  breeze 
rustle  through  the  leaves,  shake  the  trees,  and  increase 
till  suddenly  there  comes  a deluge  of  big  drops.  Such 
storms  last  but  half  an  hour,  yet  the  rain  will  soak  through 
everything,  and  the  wet  bushes  drench  the  passer-by  for 
hours  afterwards.  Nothing  is  ever  really  dry,  things  are 
in  a constant  state  of  saturation,  and  it  is  possible  at 
all  times  to  wring  moisture  out  of  any  of  one’s  belongings. 
So  great  and  incessant  is  the  evaporation  that  at  night  the 
dew  is  as  heavy  as  rain,  while  the  marshy  low-lying  lands 
and  the  rivers  are  shrouded  by  mist  both  morning  and 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


23 


evening.  With  such  humid  air  lichens  and  Hepaticse 
flourish  on  all  the  tree-trunks,  though  I have  never  seen 
them,  as  described  by  Spruce,  covering  the  very  leaves  of 
the  trees.1 

Electric  disturbances  are  numerous,  and  a sharp  and 
sudden  thunder-shower  often  occurs  about  three  in  the 
afternoon,  or  in  the  night,  though  rain  at  night  without 
thunder  is  common.  These  storms  come  up  in  the  dry 
season  especially,  and  the  worst  storms  may  be  expected 
in  February,  at  the  breaking  of  the  dry  weather.  Some- 
times the  electric  storm  will  consist  of  an  uninterrupted 
display  of  lightning  with  little  or  no  thunder,  and  the 
sizzle  of  light  makes  the  landscape  appear  as  in  a cine- 
matograph picture.  This  continued  on  one  occasion  all 
through  the  night,  and  from  the  amount  of  interest  the 
Indians  evinced  I judged  it  to  be  an  unusual  occurrence. 

It  is  always  possible  to  tell  when  rain  will  come  because 
of  the  preliminary  breeze,  hardly  felt  below  the  tree-tops, 
followed  by  a dead  calm  that  precedes  the  downpour. 
The  prevailing  wind  for  nine  months  of  the  year  will  be 
from  the  east  or  south-east,  from  June  to  August  it  will  be 
north  and  north-west.  In  January  the  prevailing  wind  is 
from  the  Atlantic,  north-east,  veering  to  south-west ; in 
July  from  the  Pacific,  south-west,  round  to  north-east. 
Fitful  and  uncertain  local  whirlwinds  will,  without  warning, 
swoop  down  on  the  clearings  round  the  houses,  play  havoc 
in  forest  and  plantation,  uproot  trees,  and  destroy  habita- 
tions. 

In  spite  of  the  continual  rain,  of  the  universal  humidity,’ 
the  climate  is  not  unhealthy.  The  heat,  though  a damp 
heat,  is  never  excessive,  the  enormously  great  evaporation 
brings  in  a succession  of  fresh  breezes  to  moderate  the 
temperature ; 2 and  so,  despite  apparently  trying  conditions, 

1 Spruce,  i.  7,  ii.  100. 

2 September  to  January  is  the  hottest  portion  of  the  year,  the  heat 
being  at  its  worst  in  December.  90°  would  be  extreme  heat,  and  70°  the 
lowest  the  mercury  would  probably  reach  ; the  average  being  from  750  to 
85°.  Robuchon  is  responsible  for  the  statement  that  the  temperature  at 
the  mouth  of  the  Cotuhe  in  September  was  430  Cent,  in  the  shade,  but 
that  after  a brisk  shower  it  fell  to  310.  The  water  of  the  Amazon  has  a 
temperature  of  8i°  ; the  Japura  is  a warmer  river  and  reaches  85°  Wallace 


24 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


the  climate  is  not  injurious.  The  low  watersheds  between 
the  large  rivers  appear  to  be  quite  healthy,  and  if  there  be 
fever  its  prevalence  varies  locally  to  an  extraordinary 
degree.  It  has  been  observed  that  where  the  soil  is  first 
turned  up  fever  not  infrequently  follows,  a fact  noted  in 
other  parts  of  the  world,  and  by  no  means  a condition 
peculiar  to  the  Amazons. 

The  soil  of  the  vast  Amazonian  basin  is  mainly  the 
alluvial  deposit  of  decomposed  vegetable  life  for  centuries 
past.  This  sea  of  Pampean  mud  stretches  from  the  ocean 
marshes  up  to  the  very  heels  of  the  mountains  that  stand 
outpost  to  hold  the  southern  continent  from  the  Pacific. 
Black  and  rich  it  lies  in  layer  after  layer  twenty,  thirty,  forty 
feet  beneath  the  great  pall  of  vegetation  that  flourishes 
above  during  its  little  day,  to  die  and  drop  for  successive 
generations  of  arboreal  life  to  thrive  upon  in  their  turn. 
And  in  all  this  vastness  is  never  a stone.  Vegetable  mould 
and  water-borne  mud,  but  stone  does  not  exist  for  thousands 
upon  thousands  of  miles.  Only  in  the  upper  waters  of  the 
Amazonian  system  are  rock  formations  reached ; in  the 
particular  district  under  consideration  nothing  is  to  be 
found  harder  than  a soft,  friable  sandstone.  On  parts  of 
the  Issa,  as  on  the  Napo,  the  deep  banks  show  strata  of 
shingle,  with  perhaps  red  or  white  clay,  that  alternate  with 
the  dark  humus  and  decaying  wood. 

It  is  the  ceaseless  activity  of  all  vegetable  life  that 
renders  these  regions  fit  for  human  habitation  at  all.  There 
is  no  period,  as  with  us,  of  bare  branches  overhead  and 
decaying  matter  below.  Decomposition  is  there,  but  for 
every  dead  leaf  a virent  successor  is  ready  to  absorb  the 
gases  engendered  by  decay.  The  soil  may  be  water- 
logged, but  evaporation,  combined  with  the  constant  rain, 
the  frequent  inundations,  and  the  endless  operations  of  an 
immeasurable  insect  world,  militate  against  stagnation. 

gives  the  mean  temperature  of  the  Rio  Negro  water  in  September— that 
is,  during  the  hot  season — as  86°,  and  the  corresponding  temperature  of 
the  air  as  from  76°  to  92-5°.  The  water,  he  considers,  is  probably  never 
less  than  8o°  at  any  time.  The  temperature  of  the  Uaupes  has  been  noted 
as  invariably  76°  at  three  to  six  feet  below  the  surface  (Geo.  Journ.,  19x0, 
p.  683). 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


25 


Dank  it  may  be,  but  there  is  no  iridescent  scum  upon  the 
water,  no  foetid  smells  to  warn  of  lurking  poisons.  These 
natural  danger-signals  are  unneeded,  for  the  poisons  are 
self -destructive.  Processes  of  corruption  are  coexistent 
with  those  of  purification.  So  extraordinary  is  this  that  I 
never  hesitated  to  drink  any  water,  nor  is  any  evil  resultant 
from  water-drinking  within  my  knowledge. 

In  this  struggle  it  is  the  weak  who  go  under,  the  feeble 
who  support  the  strong.  This  holds  good  for  vegetable  and 
animal  kingdom  alike,  and  even  with  man  there  is  no  place 
for  the  helpless.  Those  who  fail  by  the  way,  who  cannot 
fulfil  their  functions  in  the  toiling  world,  and  have  ceased  to 
be  of  practical  utility,  must  make  way  for  the  more  capable. 
Altruism  is  not  bred  of  the  forest,  it  is  a virtue  bom  in  cities. 
Here  it  would  be  suicide.  The  growing  leaf  must  push  off 
the  fading  leaf,  or  the  latter  will  stunt  and  imperil  its  growth. 
In  fact  it  does  so,  and  growth  is  thus  continual.  There  are. 
no  seasons  to  correspond  with  our  spring  nor  with  our  fall 
of  the  leaf.  From  the  lower  Amazon's  maze  of  water-ways 
up  to  the  foothills  of  the  western  mountains  reigns  perpetual 
summer  ; the  same  leafy  veil  hides  the  mysteries  of  the  great 
expanse,  eternally  dying,  eternally  renewed. 

As  one  passes  onwards,  however,  nearer  where  the  great 
cloud-banks  gather  over  the  mountain  giants  of  the  west,  a 
perceptible  change  is  to  be  noted,  the  scenery  of  the  upper 
Amazon  differs  in  certain  essential  particulars.  It  is  not 
only  that  the  great  river  thoroughfare,  first  spread  on  either 
side  beyond  the  farthest  horizon,1  becomes  a thin  black  line 
that  grows  nearer  and  deeper.  Other  features  besides  the 
river-surface  contract.  The  majestic  forest  trees  give  way 
to  timber  not  so  towering.  Plant  life  is  not  less  prolific,  but 
it  is  on  a smaller  scale.  The  bush  has  the  air  of  being 
younger.  It  suggests  that  it  has  been  dwarfed  by  perpetual 
inundations.  Nor  is  the  stunted  growth  limited  to  the 
vegetable  world ; the  animals  themselves,  as  if  Nature 
insisted  that  all  be  in  keeping,  are  on  a lesser  scale  than  their 
congeners  of  the  eastern  plains.  No  alligators  of  immense 
size  lurk  in  the  upper  waters,  even  the  fish  and  the  turtles 

1 The  Amazon  at  its  mouth  is  1 58  miles  across  from  bank  to  bank. 


26 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


are  smaller,  as  though  their  inches  were  limited  in  proportion 
to  the  streams. 

It  is  not  easy  to  convey  any  true  notion  of  the  scenery 
of  the  Montana,  the  vast  forest  regions  spreading  eastwards, 
down  from  the  lower  Andean  slopes.  Here  and  there  the 
dense  forest  gives  place  to  an  open  savannah,  an  outcrop 
of  rock  with  but  a shallow  stratum  of  soil.  These  have  none 
of  the  deep  vegetable  mould  of  the  lower-lying  forests,  and 
the  poorer  and  thinner  soil  harbours  flora  of  many  totally 
distinct  varieties.  Often  the  great  fan  leaves  of  the  Aeta  are 
matted  into  a dense  roof  over  the  black  swamp  of  the  valleys. 
Sometimes  these  water-loving  palms  are  seen  by  the  river- 
side, interlopers  in  the  fringe  of  fern  and  thickets  of  feathery 
bamboo  ; or,  again,  they  will  grow  in  a regular  belt  with 
little  or  no  other  vegetation. 

Life  is  more  evident  on  the  rivers  than  in  the  forest. 
Fish  are  there  in  plenty — eighteen  hundred  species  are 
known  in  the  Amazonian  waters.  Birds,  often  conspicuous 
by  their  apparent  absence  in  the  bush,  flock  on  the  sand- 
banks and  marshes  of  the  bank.  Herons  and  ducks  abound. 
Egrets  haunt  the  sandy  spits  that  rise  from  the  water,  and 
in  the  marshy  swamps  numbers  of  these  beautiful  creatures 
may  commonly  be  seen  hunting  for  the  tiny  fish,  animals, 
and  insects  on  which  they  feed.  Another  enemy  of  the 
small  denizens  of  the  stream  and  marsh  is  the  kingfisher. 
More  than  one  variety  abound  on  all  the  Amazon  water-ways, 
but  none  of  them  can  compare  with  the  English  bird  in 
brilliancy  of  colour.  Probably  this  is  an  instance  of  pro- 
tective colouring,  one  of  Nature’s  methods  of  defence,  for 
on  these  dark  waters  the  gorgeous  blue  of  our  Alcedo  ispida 
would  be  even  more  conspicuous  than  it  is  on  our  clearer 
streams. 

One  pictures  this  tropical  garden,  this  paradise  of  the 
naturalist,  as  a blaze  of  gorgeous  colour,  a profusion  of 
exquisite  forms.  But,  in  proportion  to  one’s  imaginative 
anticipation,  I have  never  seen  such  a monotonous,  flower- 
less wilderness  as  this  bush  appears.  Still  there  are  flowers, 
and  flowers  of  showy  colouring,  the  pinks  and  yellows  of  the 
bignonias,  the  white  and  crimson  of  the  chocolate-tree,  the 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


2 7 


crimson  of  the  hibiscus,  the  scarlet  blaze  of  the  passion-flower, 
the  snowy  beauty  of  the  inga  ; all  these  and  a thousand 
more  are  there,  with  the  rarest  blue  and  all  the  myriad 
shades  of  mauve  and  orange,  yellow,  pink,  brown,  violet 
of  uncounted  orchids.  But  orchids,  though  common,  grow 
at  the  very  top  of  the  trees,  and  unless  they  are  searched 
for  they  are  not  seen,  except  such  varieties  as  are  found  on 
the  savannahs. 

The  whole  is  on  a scale  so  gigantic,  the  immense  forest, 
the  great  rivers,  that  details  are  lost  in  the  vast  expanse, 
and  the  total  effect  is  one  of  absolute  sameness.  Yet  the 
individual  variety  is  enormous.  Though  uniform  in  the 
mass,  twenty -two  thousand  species  of  plants  have  been 
differentiated  ; thousands  more  remain  undescribed.  Only 
a botanist  could  attempt  to  deal  with  these  even  super- 
ficially. The  uninitiated,  like  myself,  can  but  look  and 
wonder. 

Many  of  the  units  of  this  mighty  aggregate  are  of  a sur- 
passing loveliness  ; flowers  unequalled  for  beauty,  birds  and 
insects  that  are  living  jewels,  outri vailing  inanimate  gems. 
Such  palms  and  ferns  as  would  be  rare  treasures  in  a Kew 
Gardens  hothouse  riot  unheeded  in  tangled  profusion  above 
the  dark  marshy  soil,  over  a screen  of  parasites  and  epiphytes. 
Forest  giants,  those  immense  monarchs  of  the  woods  Cali- 
fornian advertisements  depict  for  the  edification  of  the 
populace,  are  not  there  ; certainly  they  are  never  to  be 
found  in  the  Montana.  Nor,  perhaps,  in  consequence  of 
the  lower  growth,  is  there  that  intense  gloom  mentioned  by 
writers  on  more  easterly  districts.  The  idea  that  you  look 
up  but  can  never  see  the  sky  is  fiction  to  me.  The  foliage  is 
certainly  too  dense  for  the  sunlight  to  penetrate  down  to 
the  damp  soil  and  matted  underbush,  but  patches  of  the  sky 
are  always  more  or  less  visible  through  the  interlocked 
branches  overhead.  Light  and  air  are  to  be  had  freely 
only  on  the  tree-tops,  and  it  is  there  that  birds,  insects,  and 
flowers  mass  their  glories  out  of  human  ken.  Even  the 
animals  are  climbers,  and  most  of  them  spend  more  than 
half  of  their  existence  on  the  trees. 

There  are  no  long  dark  avenues  beneath  this  leafy  canopy 


28 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


that  hides  all  the  life  and  colour  of  the  forest  world  from 
the  traveller,  painfully  cutting  his  path  through  the  intricate 
confusion  of  roots  and  creepers  below.  These  parasitic 
creepers  are  of  many  kinds,  rooting  down  to  the  dark  soil, 
intertwining  with  themselves,  pushing  boldly  to  the  tree- 
tops,  strong  as  withes,  in  wild  festoons,  knotted,  tangled, 
of  every  thickness  from  a giant  cable  to  a narrow  thread. 
I have  seen  parasite  on  parasite.  They  loop  from  tree  to 
tree,  bind  the  underwood  into  impenetrable  thickets,  and 
trail  over  the  track-way,  ready  to  strangle  or  trip  the  heedless 
passer-by.  But  track-way  is  a misnomer.  The  only 
thoroughfares,  where  water  is  as  abundant  as  dry  land,  are 
the  water-ways.  The  bed  of  a stream  is  the  only  track.  No 
other  line  of  communication  is  intelligible  to  the  Indian. 
Even  in  the  vicinity  of  civilised  centres,  hundreds  of  miles 
away  from  these  wild  fastnesses  of  Nature,  the  exuberant 
vegetation  rapidly  encroaches  upon  a roadway.  Paths  in 
the  forest  there  are  none.  A forest  track  consists  in  following 
the  line  of  least  resistance.  If  this  should  be  stopped  by  any 
obstacle,  a fallen  tree,  a sudden  inundation,  it  would  never 
be  removed  or  surmounted.  There  is  no  choice  but  to 
climb  over  or  go  round.  The  ordinary  Indian  wayfarer 
would  go  round  ; and  so  the  road  deviates  increasingly  ; 
it  becomes  inconceivably  twisted,  until  the  actual  ground 
covered  is  enormous  compared  with  the  distance  from 
point  to  point. 

Where  a stream  has  to  be  crossed  there  is  rarely  any 
bridge  more  stable  than  a small  tree  cut  down  and  thrown 
across  just  when  and  where  it  may  be  wanted.  Frequently 
such  impromptu  bridges  are  under  water.  They  are  in- 
variably of  the  slightest  ; a branch  no  thicker  than  a man’s 
hand  suffices  to  span  a deep  chasm,  and  over  this  an  Indian 
will  pass  more  unconcernedly  than  an  Englishman  over 
London  Bridge.  The  worst  penance  of  all  in  forest  joumey- 
ings  is  to  cross  a river  or  a gully  full  of  great  fallen  trees, 
on  such  flimsy  foothold.  The  drop  at  times  may  be  40  to 
50  feet,  and  there  will  be  but  the  one  tree  across  without 
any  attempt  at  a hand-rail  to  steady  the  traveller.  Nor 
can  you  grasp  an  Indian’s  shoulder  for  aid  in  the  perilous 


PLATE  V. 


THF  BULGE-STEMMED  PALM.  IRIARTREA  VENTICOSa, 
SHOWING  PORTION  OF  LEAF  AND  FRUIT 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


29 


transit,  for  to  do  so  is  to  lose  once  for  all  every  trace  of 
prestige  and  authority.  The  man  who  cannot  get  over  a 
river  unaided,  the  man  who  is  not  man  enough  to  walk  and 
must  be  carried  in  a hammock,  is  but  a poor  creature  in  the 
eyes  of  the  South  American  Indian.  Still  it  is  more  than 
a test  of  nerve.  In  the  middle  of  such  a bridge  you  feel 
yourself  swaying,  and  it  is  only  with  a fearful  concentration 
of  will-power  and  a bitten  lip  that  you  arrive  safely  on  the 
other  side,  having  leapt  the  last  three  feet.  In  the  first 
month  of  forest  journeying  I bit  my  lip  through  time  and 
again.  It  is  not  the  torrent  below  that  frightens,  it  is  the 
rotten  trees  in  the  gully.  A fall  may  possibly  be  a broken 
neck,  more  probably  it  would  be  a broken  leg.  Of  the  two 
in  country  of  this  description  a broken  neck  is  preferable. 

Where  a stream  has  to  be  crossed  that  is  too  deep  to  be 
forded  and  cannot  be  bridged  over  in  this  elementary 
fashion,  there  is  little  difficulty  in  the  construction  of  a 
raft  or  a temporary  canoe.  The  bulging-stemmed  palm 
furnishes  an  almost  ready-made  one.  This  palm,  Iriartea 
ventricosa,  is  readily  known  by  the  peculiar  swelling  on 
the  upper  part  of  the  trunk.  It  will  attain  the  height  of 
100  feet,  and  the  swollen  portion  is  big  enough  to  form 
the  body  of  an  improvised  canoe. 

Forest  bridges  are  not  the  only  terrors  to  confront  the 
traveller ; lurking  dangers  are  many,  and  imagination  is 
but  too  quick  to  multiply  the  risks.  Peril  from  wild  beasts 
does  not  loom  largely  in  the  picture,  though  the  jaguar  is  a 
savage  brute,  and  the  experienced  traveller  will  never  sleep 
without  a weapon  at  hand  in  case  one  of  these  daring  creatures 
should  venture  to  attack.  But  of  animals  more  anon. 
There  is  one  danger  by  no  means  imaginary,  the  danger  of 
falling  trees.  A sudden  crack,  startlingly  noisy  in  the  all- 
pervading  stillness,  will  give  warning  of  a fall,  but  there  is 
nothing  to  guide  to  safety.  It  may  be  the  nearest  tree  that 
is  coming  down,  or  one  at  some  distance  ; yet  the  deceptive 
noise  will  not  determine  which  may  be  the  doomed  one, 
beyond  the  fact  that  a palm  gives  the  sharpest  crack. 
Indians  when  they  hear  such  a sound  are  invariably  fright- 
ened, and  often  will  run  backwards  and  forwards  in  terrified 


30  THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 

uncertainty,  to  try  and  discover  whence  came  the  danger 
signal. 

Then  there  are  plants  that  injure  more  directly.  One 
palm,  an  Astrocaryum,  has  spines  six  inches  in  length  up  its 
stem.  These  spines,  black  in  colour,  hard,  unbreakable, 
fall  in  the  bush  and  spike  the  foot  of  the  unfortunate  who 
may  tread  on  them.  On  the  palm-stem  itself  they  will 
wound  the  unwary  hand  incautiously  or  involuntarily  thrust 
in  the  thicket.  Many  of  the  climbing  plants  have  thorns  or 
hook-like  prickles,  and  perhaps  the  worst  are  the  many  kinds 
of  twining  river-side  palms,  whose  barbed  leaves  will  tear 
both  flesh  and  clothing.1  But  trying  as  these  vegetable 
torments  may  be,  they  are  outclassed  in  the  eyes  of  the  tyro 
by  the  more  active  evil  of  perils  from  snakes  and  insects. 
Creeping  through  dense  bush  is  an  agony  at  first.  Poisonous 
reptiles  may  lie  concealed  all  about  one,  virulent  insects 
surround  in  their  myriads.  If  imagination  has  painted  a 
floral  paradise  it  has  also  run  riot  over  a profusion  of  deadly 
snakes,  an  uninterrupted  purgatory  from  creeping  things 
innumerable,  and  winged  pests  before  which  the  plague  of 
flies  in  ancient  Egypt  sinks  to  insignificance.  And  there 
is  some  excuse  for  imagination  if  it  be  fed  on  travellers’ 
tales.  As  a matter  of  fact,  if  these  were  true  life  would  in 
all  verity  be  insupportable.  But  the  fear  of  snakes  passes 
in  two  weeks,  never  to  return,  and  mercifully  the  most 
pestilent  creatures  exist  only  in  limited  spheres,  and  seldom 
or  never  in  the  same.  Places  that  are  troubled  with  the 
pium  will  be  found  free  of  mosquitoes  at  night ; in  a belt  of 
country  where  the  mosquito  abounds  the  pium  will  be 
absent,  and  in  any  case  the  two  are  never  active  together. 
The  pium,  a most  vile  little  fly,  comes  out  at  sunrise.  It  is 
an  intolerable  pest,  will  attack  any  exposed  part  of  the 
body,  and  draws  blood  every  time.  The  traveller  is  forced, 
when  journeying  through  a pium-infested  country,  to  don 
guarded  boots,  gauntlets,  and  a veil.  It  is  impossible  to 
eat,  drink,  or  smoke,  till  sunset  puts  a period  to  the  troubling. 
Fortunately,  piums  are  only  found  within  a few  hundred 
yards  of  the  rivers.  This  is  also  the  case  as  a rule  with 

1 This  I take  to  be  the  Yacitara  mentioned  by  Spruce,  i.  30. 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


3i 


mosquitoes.  There  is  a bad  belt  of  pium  country  on  the 
Issa,  at  the  Brazilian  frontier.  It  takes  two  days  to  get 
through  on  a steamer,  and  during  the  forty-eight  hours  life 
is  a long-drawn  torture.  But  once  through  you  are  rid  of 
them.  Robuchon  noted  that  the  Culex  mosquito  disappears 
on  entering  this  river  : but  there  are  others  ; one,  a kind  of 
Tabano  in  miniature,  is  called  the  Maringunios.  I found 
piums  on  the  Kahuanari  at  low  river,  but  a light  breeze  would 
suffice  to  sweep  them  away,  and  both  mosquitoes  and  piums 
are  practically  non-existent  in  the  middle  Issa-Japura 
valley,  though  mosquitoes  are  found  in  certain  parts  of 
tracts  of  flatter  country,  but  are  not  bad  enough  to  make 
a net  a necessary  adjunct  for  comfort.  There  is  also  a tiny 
sand-fly  that  occasionally  appears  at  sunset,  when  the  river 
is  low,  and  though  minute  in  size,  causes  a very  painful 
wound.  It  is  known  in  Brazil  as  the  Maruim. 

A most  annoying  little  insect  that  is  very  common  in 
the  bush  is  a kind  of  harvest  bug.  This  almost  invisible 
“ red  tick  ” must  not  be  confused  with  another  parasite  that 
is  only  obtained  from  contact  with  Indians.  The  forest 
tick  lives  on  the  leaves  of  plants  and  bushes,  and  when 
shaken  off  creeps  everywhere,  and  will  burrow  under  the 
skin,  which  gives  rise  to  maddening  irritation. 

Wasps  and  wild  bees — the  bee  of  these  regions  is  a waspish 
creature — are  frequently  a nuisance.  Often  in  a forest  path 
I have  come  upon  a huge  black  overhanging  nest  pendant 
from  a tree.  It  looks  like  a tarred  lobster-pot  full  of  black 
pitch,  and  it  is  necessary  to  rush  past  to  avoid  the  stings  of 
the  easily-roused  inhabitants.  Some  of  the  wasps  are 
exceedingly  handsome  fellows,  noticeable  even  among 
Amazonian  winged  beauties,  unsurpassed  in  any  other 
land  for  gorgeous  colouring.  Among  other  fine  insects 
of  the  Montana  are  the  huge  Morphos,  a dazzling  blue 
butterfly  many  sizes  bigger  than  a humming-bird ; dragon- 
flies with  iridescent  wings  and  jewelled  bodies,  fireflies  and 
glow-worms  with  their  living  lights,  so  brilliant  that  I have 
often  in  a moment  of  forgetfulness  mistaken  them  for 
distant  lights  from  some  human  dwelling-place.  But  the 
butterflies,  the  most  resplendent  of  all,  frequently  illustrate 


32 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


the  proverb  that  beauty  is  but  skin  deep.  Exquisitely 
graceful  in  flight,  marvellous  in  subtle  colourings,  I have 
found  them  to  be  the  dirtiest  possible  feeders.  The  sight 
of  one  now  fills  me  with  repugnance,  for  it  calls  to  mind 
pictures  of  these  so  apparently  dainty  and  aerial  beings 
fluttering  about  some  mass  of  offal,  actually  eating  manure.1 
They  will  congregate  in  thousands  round  a spot  of  blood,  so 
absolutely  fearless  that  it  is  not  possible  to  drive  them 
away.  They  will  actually  smother  the  kill  during  the 
disembowelling  process  after  hunting.  The  contrast  of  their 
ethereal  loveliness  and  their  gross  habits  is  revolting — 
Psyche  and  putrid  filth,  an  inconceivably  horrible  combina- 
tion. 

Butterflies  and  moths  exist  in  great  numbers  and  varieties. 
The  most  ordinary  kind  is  a large  bright  sky-blue  ; other 
common  ones  are  tiger-marked  and  yellow,  like  our  sulphur 
butterfly  but  larger.  Most  of  them  are  strong  fliers.  If 
the  perfect  insects  themselves  inflict  no  injury,  the  same 
cannot  always  be  said  of  them  in  the  caterpillar  stage,  for 
very  many  have  hair  that  stings  quite  painfully. 

Ants  are  the  greatest  curse.  They  are  everywhere,  of 
all  kinds,  of  varied  colours,  and  almost  invariable  viciousness. 
They  drop  from  the  overhanging  foliage.  They  may  come 
singly  or  in  battalions — army  corps  rather.  The  traveller 
pushing  through  the  thicket  will  knock  them  off  the  bushes, 
and  they  will  proceed  to  crawl  down  the  neck  or  up  the 
sleeves.  They  swarm  over  the  bare  feet.  And  then  they 
sting.  The  worst  kind  is  a small  stinging  ant  not  more  than 
the  size  of  a pin’s  head.  In  many  places  the  earth  is  broken 
up  and  transformed  into  irregular  heaps,  the  late  habitations 
of  some  gregarious  ant,  such  as  the  Ecodema  cophelotos, 
or  it  may  be  built  into  cones  to  the  height  of  4 or  5 feet 
by  the  termites.  It  needs  but  short  experience  of  the 
bush  to  endorse  very  heartily  Spruce’s  comment  that  they 
“ deserve  to  be  considered  the  actual  owners  of  the  Amazon 

1 Wallace  noted  a butterfly  frequenting  " the  dung  of  some  carnivorous 
animal  ” in  Malacca,  and  remarks  that  many  tropical  butterflies  suck 
liquid  from  muddy  places,  “ and  are  generally  so  intent  upon  their  meal 
that  they  can  be  easily  approached  and  captured  ” (Wallace,  The  Malay 
Archipelago,  pp.  29,  1 1 4). 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


33 


valley.”  1 On  more  than  one  occasion  stinging  ants  drove 
me  from  dry  land  to  water.  In  inundated  country  these 
insects  forced  me  to  take  refuge  off  the  higher  points  of  land, 
which,  turned  into  temporary  islands,  form  the  natural 
resting-place  for  the  traveller  exhausted  by  the  wading,  the 
swimming,  and  the  stumbling  through  the  unseen  under- 
growth. Unfortunately  the  ants,  too,  are  driven  to  take 
the  same  refuge.  The  traveller  may  find  that  choice  lies 
between  torture  on  land  or  again  seeking  the  comparative 
peace  of  the  water  in  perhaps  an  exhausted  condition. 
Happily  ants,  like  the  pium,  keep  in  belts,  and  of  these  it  can 
only  be  said  that  discreet  avoidance  is  better  than  valour. 

With  regard  to  the  reptiles,  though  these  abound,  they 
seek  rather  to  avoid  than  to  court  notice,  and  are  by  no 
means  the  danger  to  life  that  the  ignorant  imagine.  Natur- 
ally the  naked  Indian  is  more  exposed  to  any  peril  there 
may  be  than  the  better  protected  white  man,  and  if  a snake 
be  trodden  on  it  will  promptly  turn  and  bite  the  unshod 
foot  of  the  aggressor.  But  no  snake,  so  far  as  I have  observed, 
will  attack  a human  being  unmolested,  not  even  the  boa 
constrictor  ; nor  would  the  anaconda,  the  great  water  snake, 
though  all  Indians  are  very  afraid  of  it.  I do  not  think  that 
even  the  venomous  labarria  ever  bites  a man  unless  first 
disturbed. 

Alligators  in  the  Issa  and  the  Japura  are  small,  rarely 
seen,  and  never  formidable.  The  dangerous  jacare,  that 
huge  monster  of  the  lower  rivers,  is  unknown  here.  But 
of  fierce  and  poisonous  fish  I shall  have  somewhat  to  say 
later.  Curiously  enough,  despite  the  swampy  nature  of 
the  ground,  I never  met  with  any  leeches,  though  Bates 
mentions  a red,  four-angled  species  he  found  to  be  abundant 
in  the  marshy  pools  at  the  juncture  of  the  Japura  and 
the  Amazon.2  Frogs  and  toads  are  the  most  abundant 
reptiles.  They  exist  in  thousands  and  are  of  all  sizes, 
though  I have  never  seen  any  of  dimensions  that  Spruce 
speaks  of — “ as  big  as  a man’s  head.”  3 At  night  near 
any  stream  huge  frogs  keep  up  a constant  and  fearful 
noise,  and  even  at  midday,  when  a silence  that  may  be 

1 Spruce,  ii.  366.  2 Bates,  ii.  262.  3 Spruce,  i.  49. 

D 


34 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


felt  enfolds  the  tropical  woodland,  their  chorus  is  only 
subdued,  not  stayed. 

This  silence  of  the  forest  is  a very  real  thing,  a quality 
that  does  not  lessen  by  acquaintance.  On  the  contrary  it 
grows  more  real  and  more  oppressive.  A strange  gloom 
and  a strange  stillness  hold  the  bush.  They  give  the  im- 
pression that  there  is  nothing  animate  in  all  the  vastness, 
no  life  other  than  that  of  the  overwhelming,  all-triumphant 
vegetation.  It  is  possible  to  journey  for  days  and  never 
see  a human  being.  A sound,  be  it  but  the  cracking  of  a 
twig,  startles  in  the  forest.  Then,  suddenly,  the  vibrant 
quiet  will  be  broken  by  a shrill  scream.  Some  creature  has 
been  done  to  death.  The  cry  dies  to  a moan,  and  the  low 
murmur  that  is  hardly  sound,  the  drone  of  the  unseen  but 
abundant  life,  once  more  makes  up  the  silence  that  pulses 
tormentingly  on  ear  and  brain,  till  night  again  wakens  the 
birds  and  the  beasts  of  the  wild,  and  the  murmur  grows 
and  deepens  to  the  full  volume  of  confused  sound  made  by 
the  forest’s  busy  life. 

At  the  break  of  day,  and  again  at  the  going  down  of  the 
sun,  the  howling  monkeys,  if  they  be  in  the  neighbourhood, 
startle  the  echoes  with  their  raucous  yelps.  Sunrise  is, 
indeed,  the  signal  for  absolute  pandemonium.  Toucans 
start  an  endless  chattering  that  rises  now  and  again  to  a 
far-reaching  scream.  The  trumpeter  birds  make  extra- 
ordinary noises.  With  them  may  be  joined  in  a chorus 
of  discord  the  macaws  and  the  parrots  of  the  district,  and 
the  chorus  is  punctuated  at  night  by  the  mournful  cry  of  a 
large  night-jar. 

But,  for  the  most  part,  the  birds  and  the  beasts  go  about 
their  business  silently.  They  seek  neither  to  disturb  their 
victims  nor  to  advertise  their  own  doings  and  so  attract 
those  with  sinister  designs  against  themselves.  In  the 
bush  silence  is  a better  policy  than  honesty. 

Picture  all  this,  and  try  to  understand  the  bush  life  in 
Amazonia.  It  will  explain  much  of  the  unwritten  and 
unwritable  story  of  the  inhabitants  of  these  wilds.  For  the 
traveller  the  day  is  easily  summarised  : the  awakening  at 
sunrise,  followed  by  a bath  in  the  nearest  stream,  and  a 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


35 


meal  of  what  was  left  over-night ; the  trail,  the  worst  in  the 
world ; the  slow  progress  that  jars  on  the  nerves  ; the 
never-ending,  impenetrable  forest ; the  narrow  path  that 
has  to  be  widened  ; the  stumbles,  the  falls,  the  whipping  of 
the  face  and  arms  by  innumerable  twigs  ; the  ever-ready 
liana  that  catches  the  foot  of  the  careless  walker  ; the  sting- 
ing ants  that  shower  down  on  face  and  neck  when  a tree  is 
accidentally  shaken  ; the  greenheart  and  other  rods  that 
pierce  the  feet  and  legs  ; the  thorns  innumerable,  and  the 
fine  palm-spines  on  which  a hand  is  transfixed  when  put 
out  to  save  a fall ; the  end  of  the  trek,  a bath  to  get  rid 
of  the  litter  of  mud  and  vegetable  filth ; dinner,  of  sorts ; 
and  a hammock  under  a shelter  so  poor  that  it  will  not  pre- 
vent the  driving  and  inevitable  rain  from  chilling  the  sleeper 
to  the  bone.  Imagine  the  state  of  fatigue  to  mind  and  body 
when  one  cries,  “ Thank  God,  I have  got  so  far  to-day.  I 
could  not  repeat  to-day’s  labours.  I could  not  go  back 
on  my  own  open  trail,  or  go  through  the  same  to-morrow.” 
And  so  crying  one  knows  that  to-morrow  and  the  trail  must 
come.  Even  in  fancy  you  will  feel  the  pressure  on  your 
chest,  the  pressure  behind  you.  It  demoralises  utterly. 

There  is  a gruesome  depression  that  is  almost  physical, 
produced  by  solitude  on  a small  island,  when  all  other  land 
is  out  of  sight.  The  bush  to  me  is  worse.  The  oppression 
is  as  of  some  great  weight.  A light  heart  is  impossible  in 
an  atmosphere  which  the  sunshine  never  enlivens,  that  is 
beaten  daily  back  to  earth  by  rain,  where  the  air  is  heavy 
with  the  fumes  of  fallen  vegetation  slowly  steaming  to 
decay.  The  effect  of  the  impenetrable  thickets  around,  the 
stifling  of  the  breath,  is  all  mental,  doubtless  ; but  it  must 
react  physically  on  the  neurotic  subject. 

This  depression,  this  despondency,  may  seem  incredible 
to  those  who  have  never  experienced  anything  similar,  who 
are  ignorant  of  the  innate  malevolence  of  the  High  Woods. 
But  in  truth  there  is  nothing  in  Nature  more  cruel  than  the 
unconquered  vegetation  of  a tropical  South  American 
forest.  The  Amazonian  bush  brings  no  consolation.  It  is 
silent,  inhospitable,  cynical.  It  has  overcome  the  mastodon 
and  the  megatherium,  the  prehistoric  camel  and  the  rhino- 


36 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


ceros.  It  has  reduced  its  rivals  of  the  animal  kingdom  to 
slimy  alligators  and  unsightly  armadilloes,  to  sloths  and 
ant-bears.  The  most  powerful  tenant  of  its  shades  is  the 
boa  constrictor,  the  most  majestic  the  jaguar.  Man  is  a 
very  puny  feature  in  the  Amazonian  cosmos. 

The  sense  of  one’s  insignificance  is  the  first  lesson  of 
travel  in  the  bush.  In  the  beginning  the  discovery  amuses 
the  adventurer.  Later,  he  resents  the  implied  superiority 
of  the  fixed  and  nerveless  plants  which  barricade  his  pro- 
gress. In  the  end,  he  hates  the  bush  as  though  it  were  a 
sentient  being.  Yet  the  component  parts  of  the  bush  are 
familiar  to  all  at  home  : we  coddle  them  in  our  gardens,  and 
nurse  them  tenderly  in  our  glass-houses.  But  in  the 
Amazons  they  unite  to  form  a horrible,  a most  evil-disposed 
enemy.  They  obscure  the  sun  from  the  earth,  condemn  one 
to  existence  in  a gloomy,  stifling  half-light.  They  constrict 
the  world  to  a path  laboriously  hacked  through  jealous 
undergrowth.  They  stab  with  hidden  snags,  and  strangle 
with  deftly  poised  lianas.  In  their  most  hurtful  mood  they 
poison  with  a touch.1 

The  Amazonian  forest  is  no  glorified  botanic  garden. 
Its  units  are  not  intelligently  isolated  and  labelled.  There 
is  but  a monotonous  tangle  of  vegetation  through  which 
the  traveller  cuts  his  way  to  daylight  and  perspective  in  a 
river-channel.  One  rarely  sees  a blossom  or  a fruit.  Within 
that  tangle,  however,  is  the  whole  varied  life  of  the  tropical 
jungle.  It  may  be  difficult  to  distinguish  specimens  through 
the  superimposed  mass  of  extraneous  vegetation  ; it  may 
be  impossible  to  catch  a glimpse  of  a living  creature  through- 
out a day’s  march  ; but  the  flowers  are  there  in  their 
thousands,  and  a myriad  of  eyes  have  noted  each  blundering 
movement  of  the  wrayfarer.  It  is  no  part  of  the  philosophy 
of  the  bush  to  force  even  the  most  reckless  of  animals  into 
needless  publicity. 

It  is  simple  for  the  traveller  to  pull  the  canoe  to  the 
bank  of  one  of  the  upper  tributaries  of  the  great  river,  to 
land,  to  part  the  screen  of  bushes,  and  to  pass  beyond — 

1 One  tree  is  reputed  to  be  so  poisonous  that  no  Indian  will  touch  it. 
See  Maw,  p.  294. 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


37 


into  the  obscurity  of  barbarism.  It  is  a simple  feat,  yet 
eventful.  A thousand  yards  away  from  the  safe  thorough- 
fare of  the  main  stream  the  explorer  is  lost,  overwhelmed 
in  the  extravagance  of  vegetation.  Denied  a pathway, 
a landmark,  a horizon,  or  a sky,  he  has  less  to  guide  him 
than  the  castaway  on  the  ocean  or  the  wanderer  in  the 
Sahara.  His  most  definite  course  can  only  be  from  river- 
bed to  river-bed.  To  direct  him  on  his  way  the  trees  offer 
no  aid  to  help  him,  the  forest  provides  but  little  sustenance. 

Every  traveller  in  the  bush  lives  in  the  constant  dread 
of  being  lost.  Desertion,  unexpected,  unforeseen,  is  common 
with  the  Indians.  They  leave  without  ascertainable  cause 
at  the  cost  of  their  pay,  at  the  risk  of  their  lives.  In  a 
watch  of  the  night  they  depart,  and  although  the  country 
be  swarming  with  their  blood-enemies,  they  vanish  into  the 
forest  and  are  no  more  seen. 

In  time  the  civilised  man,  with  no  other  than  such  bar- 
baric companions,  turns  at  the  thought  of  them,  is  nauseated 
by  their  bestiality,  longs  for  relief  from  their  presence. 
Then  he  wanders  away,  ever  so  little  a distance  into  the 
bush,  to  be  alone  and  to  think.  He  happens  upon  a stream 
— that  is  so  simple  a by-path,  so  obvious  a guide.  He  wan- 
ders light-footedly  up  its  bed  in  search  of  that  ego  which  had 
begun  to  elude  him.  The  surroundings  interest  him.  The 
water  comforts  his  feet.  The  silence  casts  him  back  upon 
himself.  He  thinks,  computes,  and  the  solitude  assists  his 
introspection.  He  recovers  his  perspective,  replaces  the 
comrades  of  his  bush-life  in  their  proper  places — the  glass- 
fronted  cupboards  of  an  anthropological  museum.  His  self- 
respect  regained,  he  pauses  to  admire  his  new-found  horizon. 

Trees  hem  him  in  on  every  side.  A little  way  up  the 
stream  is  a narrow  slit  of  sunlight,  a little  way  down  a 
narrow  canopy  of  sky.  All  else  is  vegetation.  The  solitude 
no  longer  tempts  him,  but  mocks  as  he  contemplates  his 
surroundings.  Yet  to  doubt  is  to  be  ridiculous.  It  is  all 
so  simple  ; it  took  so  long  to  come  here  up  the  stream  ; 
the  same  number  of  hours  or  minutes  will  take  him  back 
again  to  the  spot  he  marked,  and  so  to  the  camp. 

The  difficulties  begin  with  the  return  journey.  He 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


38 

questions  the  hour  of  leaving  the  bearers,  the  rate  of  march, 
the  time  spent  in  lazy  consideration.  One  tree  is  so  like 
another  tree,  one  river  vista  but  the  duplicate  of  the  last. 
Reeds,  weeds,  and  bush  now  offer  nothing  distinctive  ; 
their  former  individuality  appears  to  be  lost.  The  trail 
must  have  been  passed.  He  shouts,  diffidently  at  first, 
eventually  with  hysteria.  He  fires  a rifle,  and  the  bush  but 
re-echoes  the  sound.  The  hundreds  of  miles  of  forest  on 
every  side  press  together,  and  the  signal  is  shuttlecocked 
between.  The  very  echoes  seem  to  him  muffled,  like  the 
drums  at  a soldier’s  funeral.  The  traveller  is  lost. 

The  realisation  is  a strange  psychological  phenomenon. 
It  forces  the  self-reliant  European  on  his  knees  to  pray  ; 
drags  him  to  his  feet  to  blaspheme  ; throws  him  on  his  face 
to  weep.  This  admission  may  come  strangely  to  the  well- 
housed  British  ratepayer.  It  may  sound  like  a confession 
of  unfathomable  cowardice.  It  is  far  easier  for  the  arm- 
chair philosopher  to  imagine  the  stoicism  of  the  Indians 
than  to  reproduce  the  neuroticism  of  his  European  counter- 
part. Things  are  so  different  when  the  conception  of  the 
Amazonian  bush  is  the  memory  of  the  tropical  houses  in 
Kew  Gardens. 

One  day  I was  lost  alone.  When  I realised  it  I shouted, 
then  fired  half-a-dozen  rounds  from  my  rifle,  and  laughed. 
It  was  the  laugh  that  brought  me  to  my  senses — that  way 
lay  madness.  The  reaction  to  calm  was  stupendous.  Life 
was  dependent  upon  self-control  and  clarity  of  judgment. 
I counted  my  rounds,  remembered  all  I had  eaten  that  day, 
and  settled  myself  to  think.  We  had  crossed  a stream,  and 
my  boys  had  been  left  quenching  their  thirst.  I took  the 
lie  of  the  land,  and  found  a path  leading  downwards.  It 
must  go  to  water.  It  did  in  fact  take  me  to  a stream,  and 
I trudged  wearily  in  the  bed  of  it ; then,  after  two  fruitless 
hours  of  growing  despondency,  turned  and  went  down, 
to  find,  as  darkness  was  closing  in,  Brown  and  his  party. 
That  night  I had  fever,  and  talked  in  my  sleep.  And  John 
Brown  was  lost  for  five  and  a half  months.  Good  God  ! 

There  is  one  last  experience  of  the  bush — starvation. 
The  man  who  has  not  starved  can  never  enter  into  the 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


39 


feelings  of  his  brother  who,  with  blood-shot  eyes  and  shaking 
fingers,  has  groped  about  the  fallen  leaves  for  a lizard  or  a 
frog.  I can  answer  for  it  that  those  who  have  starved 
never  again  may  express  the  sensation.  It  has  become  the 
memory  of  a nightmare. 


CHAPTER  III 


The  Indian  homestead — Building — Site  and  plan  of  maloka — Furniture — 
Inhabitants  of  the  house — Fire — Daily  life — Insect  inhabitants — Pets. 


Out  of  the  silence  and  gloom  of  the  forest  the  traveller  will 
emerge  into  the  full  light  of  a clearing.  Though  it  is  the 
site  of  a tribal  headquarters  there  is  no  village,  no  cluster 
of  huts,  except  among  some  of  the  tribes  on  the  lower 
Apaporis.  There  is  but  one  great  house,  thatched  and 
ridge-roofed  like  a gigantic  hay-rick,  standing  four-square  in 
the  open.  This  is  the  home  of  some  three  score  Indians.1 

The  immediate  signs  of  their  occupancy  are  but  few. 
There  is  hardly  any  litter  cumbering  the  homestead  ; what- 
ever of  refuse  there  be  is  cleared  more  speedily  by  the  ants 
than  it  would  be  by  the  most  up-to-date  sanitary  authority 
of  London.  Back  here  in  the  untouched  districts,  away 
from  the  Rubber  Belt  and  the  commerce-bearing  rivers, 
there  are  none  of  the  leavings  of  civilisation  : no  broken 
bottles,  no  battered  tins,  no  tom  and  dirty  scraps  of  paper — 
indeed  if  bottle  or  tin  ever  found  its  way  to  these  wilds  it 
would  be  esteemed  a most  rare  and  valuable  treasure. 
No  village  dogs  bark  their  challenge  at  the  stranger’s 
approach,  no  domestic  fowls  clutter  away  to  safety.  A 
naked  child  or  a startled  old  woman  may  scurry  into  the 
saving  murk  of  the  maloka ,2  otherwise  the  silence  and 
solitude  appear  little  less  profound  than  in  the  forest. 

That  is  the  picture  as  the  artist  or  camera  would 

1 These  tribal  houses  differ  from  the  communal  long-houses  of  the  Fly 
Delta,  British  New  Guinea,  not  only  in  shape,  but  in  that  there  are  no 
platforms  and  no  divisions  for  each  family  ; the  whole  interior  is  open. 
For  description  of  Kiwai  and  Daudai  long-houses  see  Expedition  to  Torres 
Straits,  iv.  112-117. 

2 Maloka  = Indian  lodge  or  tribal  house  (lingoa-geral). 

40 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS  41 

reproduce  it.  The  details,  the  essentials,  must  be  sought 
within. 

First  of  all  characteristics  is  the  fact  that  nothing  makes 
for  permanence.  The  house  and  its  contents  at  the  best  are 
but  for  temporary  use.  The  possession  of  a central  tribal 
house  does  not  presuppose  that  these  Indians  remain  for 


any  length  of  time  in  one  locality.  After  about  two  or 
three  years  the  house  falls  into  a state  of  disrepair,  but  the 
tribesmen  will  not  patch  and  mend  it.  They  will  simply 
discard  it  like  all  useless  things.  The  women  will  be  loaded 
up  with  the  few  tribal  possessions — not  forgetting  the 
inevitable  burden  of  their  infants — the  house  will  be  burnt, 


42 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


and  the  whole  of  this  grosse  famille  departs  to  seek  a new 
site  on  which  to  build  another  habitation. 

Building  material  is  easily  come  by,  and  though  to 
clear  the  land  for  agricultural  purposes  from  the  virgin 
forest  entails  considerable  hard  work,  it  is  periodically  a 
necessary  task.  However  rich  it  may  have  been  in  the 
first  instance  successive  crops  rob  the  soil  of  its  fertility,  as 
the  Indian  is  only  too  well  aware,  and  fresh  ground  must 
perforce  be  broken  up  every  few  years.  Then  again,  paths 
converging  on  the  homestead  in  time  are  worn  through 
the  forest  undergrowth,  dense  though  it  may  be,  circuitous 
though  the  trail  of  the  Indian  is  invariably.  Secrecy  is 
security.  A track-way  is  as  good  as  an  invitation,  a sign- 
post, to  the  enemy.  To  move  becomes  a precautionary 
measure,  even  if  the  food  supply  be  not  exhausted — another 
reason  that  makes  for  unsettled  conditions  in  forest  life. 

The  site  chosen  is  never  near  a river,  for  these  are  the 
highways  for  a possible  enemy,  and  streams  for  ordinary 
purposes  abound.  Also — but  this  is  an  insignificant  reason 
in  comparison  with  the  first — insect  pests  are  not  so  abundant 
at  a distance  from  the  river-bank.  With  an  eye  to  defence 
from  hostile  visitors,  the  Indian  habitation  is  sedulously 
hidden,  and  the  paths  that  lead  to  it  are  concealed  also  in 
every  possible  way.  The  track  from  the  river  especially 
may  run  more  or  less  directly  for,  say,  a third  of  a mile  ; 
then  it  is  absolutely  stopped  by  a fallen  tree.  No  cleared 
pathway  apparently  runs  beyond  this,  but  the  Indian, 
creeping  through  the  thicket  by  devious  ways,  eventually 
reaches  another  comparatively  cleared  track.  This  will 
in  turn  be  stopped  in  the  same  fashion,  and  thence 
lead  more  directly  housewards.  The  river -path  may  be 
broken  twice  or  even  three  times  in  little  more  than 
a mile. 

At  the  same  time  that  the  ground  is  cleared  on  which 
the  house  is  to  be  built,  a plot  immediately  in  front  is  also 
cleared  for  use  as  a dancing  ground.  This  is  customary, 
but  not  invariable,  for  some  tribes  are  content  with  the 
dancing  space  inside  the  house.  The  outside  dancing  floor 
once  cleared  is  quickly  trodden  down,  and  though  no  special 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS  43 

preparation  is  attempted  will  soon  be  baked  comparatively 
hard  in  the  sun. 

The  construction  of  the  great  house  is  not  complicated, 
but  the  workmanship  is  dexterous,  and  will  bear  the 
closest  inspection.  Four  great  poles,  20  to  30  feet  high, 
form  the  main  supports  of  the  roof,  which  slopes  down  on 
either  side  tentwise  almost  to  the  ground  from  the  central 
ridge-pole.  More  posts  and  cross-beams  support  it,  and  the 
whole  is  most  adroitly  lashed  together.  The  forest  supplies 
all  the  needed  material.  It  is  there  ready  to  hand,  growing 
where  the  house  is  to  be  erected.  The  straightest  tree- 


trunks  provide  the  posts  and  cross-beams  ; the  creeping 
lianas  serve  to  splice  and  bind  the  framework  together  ; 
Bussu  palm-leaves1  make  the  thatch,  which,  as  the  actual 
wall  is  but  some  three  feet  in  height,  is  practically  roof  and 
wall  in  one.  The  bejucos,  or  lianas,  used  to  tie  the  beams 
and  poles  are  first  soaked  in  water  to  render  them  supple 
enough.2 

To  make  the  thatch  the  Indians  slit  bamboos  and  insert 


1 Manicaria  saccifera  (cf.  Spruce,  i.  56). 

2 Eugene  Andre  noted  that  two  kinds  were  commonly  used  on  the 
Causa,  the  mulato,  a kind  of  Aroideae,  and  the  murcielago,  which  belongs 
to  the  Bignoniaceae  family. 


44 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


the  palm-leaves  doubled  backwards.1  The  strips  are  then 
laid  on  the  framework  of  the  house,  one  above  another,  so 
that  the  uppermost  strips  shall  hang  half  over  those 
below.  They  are  piled  on  to  a thickness  of  from  a foot  to 
eighteen  inches,  and  when  completed  this  shingling  is 
absolutely  waterproof.  When  it  ceases  to  be  so  the  house 
will  be  abandoned.  The  leaves  are  not  plaited,  or  inter- 
twined in  any  manner,  so  the  roof  consists  only  of  loose 
fronds,  row  upon  row,  and  these  have  more  the  appearance 
of  tobacco  plants  hung  in  an  open  drying-barn  than  a reed 
or  straw  thatch. 

All  the  native  houses  are  made  after  much  the  same 
manner.  They  vary  only  in  unimportant  details.  The 
shape,  as  a rule,  is  a rough  parallelogram  or  square  with 
rounded  angles,  but  on  the  lower  Apaporis  the  houses  are 
circular.  On  the  Napo  River  also  they  are  hemispherical, 
but  the  section  of  a Witoto  or  Boro  house  usually  would  be 
a triangle  some  30  feet  high,  with  a 60-feet  base.  Witoto 
houses  sometimes  are  more  circular  as  to  ground-plan, 
but  always  have  the  pointed  roof,  not  a cone  (see  Fig.  4). 

The  house  is  not  always  roofed  and  thatched  to  the 
ground,  the  last  two  or  three  feet  occasionally  being  made 
of  a closely  set  palisade,  lined  with  matting  or  thatch. 
This  is  even  more  noticeable  in  a Nonuya  house,  and  a 
Makuna  house  is  invariably  so  fortified  and  is  lighter  than 
a Boro  dwelling.  As  a general  rule  it  may  be  noted  that 
the  Issa-Japura  houses  are  not  strengthened  in  this  way. 
Wallace  gives  the  dimensions  of  a house  at  Jaurit£  as 
1 15  feet  long,  by  75  broad,  and  30  high.2  A Witoto  or 
a Boro  house  is  usually  about  60  to  70  feet  in  diameter. 
In  both  cases  the  size  depends  on  the  numbers  of  the 
tribe. 

1 Several  kinds  of  palm-leaves  are  used  for  this  purpose,  and  whichever 
was  most  easily  procurable  in  the  district  where  the  house  was  built  would 
be  used  by  the  tribe.  Hardenburg  mentions  the  leaves  of  the  Phytelephas 
macrocarpa,  the  vegetable  ivory-tree,  as  in  use  among  the  Witoto,  and  the 
Badris  ciliata  or  Chonta  palm  for  the  posts  and  rafters  (p.  135).  The 
leaves  of  the  Bussu  palm,  Manicaria  saccifera,  will  make  a thatch  that  lasts 
for  ten  or  twelve  years,  by  some  accounts  (cf.  Waterton,  p.  479). 

2 Wallace,  p.  341. 


PLATE  VI. 


FLOWERS 


AND  SECTION  OF  LEAF  OF  THE  BUSSU  PALM 
THE  LEAF  IS  USED  FOR  THATCHING 


Eleva  nor/ 


6 

£ 


46 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


These  houses  have  no  windows,  and  the  entrance  is 
merely  an  opening  in  the  palm-thatch  eaves  of  some  three 
feet  by  two.  This  most  frequently  is  closed  with  a re- 
movable section  of  the  thatch,  which  must  be  lifted  out 
when  any  one  enters,  and  replaced  behind  them  ; or  it  may 
be,  as  among  the  Orahone  and  Nonuya,  covered  by  a 
curtain  of  thatch,  which  is  hung  on  a cross-piece  of  the  eaves 
by  a strip  of  liana,  and  simply  is  pushed  aside  and  swung 
back  into  place.  In  a Nonuya  house  the  door  is  marked 
outside  by  bundles  of  rods  neatly  tied  and  set  against  the 
side  posts.1  Whatever  the  “ door  ” may  be,  the  opening  is 
invariably  kept  closed,  and  it  is  the  duty  of  any  persons 
coming  in  to  fasten  up  the  entrance  as  soon  as  they  have 
entered.2  The  consequence  of  this  absence  of  any  opening 
is  that  the  interiors  of  the  malokas  are  nearly  as  dark  by 
day  as  by  night.  But  this  deep  gloom  keeps  out  insects — 
no  small  consideration  in  a land  so  infested  with  them. 

_/2l 

Fig.  4. — Section  of  houses. 

The  interior  with  its  pointed  roof  resembles,  as  Robuchon 
remarked,  a circus  at  a country  fair.  The  central  space  is 
usually  kept  clear,  and  is  used  by  the  children  as  a playing- 
ground  what  time  it  is  not  required  for  more  serious  tribal 
business,  such  as  dancing  or  a tobacco  palaver.  The  far  end 
of  the  house — where  there  is  usually  another  small  entrance 
— is  the  portion  reserved  for  the  chief  and  his  family.  As  a 
rule  it  is  open,  but  I have  seen  it  matted  off  in  some  Witoto 
houses.  Neither  the  Boro  nor  the  Witoto  indulge  in  the 
cubicles  of  palm -leaf  thatch  mentioned  by  Wallace  in 
Uaupes  houses,3  nor  are  their  habitations  divided  into  two, 
with  a small  chamber  at  the  end,  as  described  by  Koch- 

1 This  is  architecturally  interesting  in  view  of  Foucart’s  theory  of  the 
evolution  of  the  Egyptian  grooved  stone  pillar  from  wooden  originals, 
bundles  of  reeds. 

2 Simson  mentions  such  a “ door,”  p.  237. 

3 Wallace,  p,  341. 


PLATE  VII 


SELF,  WITH  NONUYA  TRIBE  MUENANE  TRIBE 

(Note  Doorway  behind  me) 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


47 


Griinberg  in  Tuyuka  houses.1  Each  family  has  its  own 
fire,  but  that  is  the  only  distinction,  though  on  the  lower 
Apaporis  mats  of  beaten  palm-leaf  are  used  to  form  a sort 
of  booth  for  each  family.  Such  mats,  duriei  as  the  Witoto 
call  them,  are  also  employed  in  some  houses  for  the  pro- 
tective purpose  of  securing  the  entrance. 

The  Apaporis  Indians  also  make  shelves  or  platforms 
on  which  they  sleep,  but  all  the  other  Issa- Japura  tribes 
use  the  hammock  slung  about  2\  feet  from  the  ground 
One  is  hung  for  every  man  adjacent  to  his  family  fire 
—almost  over  it  in  fact.  A second,  placed  rather  less 
advantageously,  in  local  opinion,  belongs  to  his  wife  ; while 
a third  may  be  set  between 
the  two,  close  under  the 
sloping  thatch,  for  the 
children,  when  they  are  not 
asleep  on  the  rough  floor  of 
uncovered  earth.  The 
family  possessions  are  stored 
in  places  on  the  rafters  over- 
head along  with  the  ham- 
mocks, cooking -pots,  and 
baskets  with  dried  fish  or 
smoked  meat,  the  cassava- 
squeezer  and  personal 
treasures. 

The  chief  has  no  other 
house,  but  any  tribesman 
with  a wish  for  one  can 
build  a small  house  for  himself  and  his  family  in  the  bush, 
though  he  still  retains  his  right  to  a comer  in  the  common 
dwelling  of  the  tribe.  A temporary  shelter  is  easily  con- 
trived by  lashing  poles  to  four  trees,  some  seven  or  eight  feet 
above  the  ground.  On  this  frame-work  branches  for  rafters 
and  palm-leaves  for  thatch  are  quiekly  adjustable.  This  is  the 
ordinary  way  of  preparing  a sleeping-place  in  the  forest,  and 

1 Among  the  Jivaro  one  partitioned  half  of  the  house  is  kept  for  the 
women  (Orton,  p.  171).  There  is  no  such  distinction  among  the  Issa- 
Japura  tribes. 


A 


A 

Fig.  5. 

AAA,  posts.  B,  fire.  CCC,  hammocks. 
D D,  Wall. 


48 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


is  known  among  the  rubber-gatherers  as  a rancho,  but  the 
Indians’  private  houses  are  constructed  more  securely,  and 
more  like  miniature  editions  of  the  central  tribal  house, 
although  in  this  case  no  wall  whatever  supports  the  sloping 
roof  as  a rule.  These  may  be  called  their  country  homes, 
and  they  may  be  perhaps  as  much  as  two  days’  journey 
from  the  great  house  of  assembly. 

At  ordinary  times  there  will  be  possibly  from  fifty  to 
sixty  people  in  the  tribal  house,  but  on  the  occasion  of  any 
festivity  as  many  as  two  hundred  will  crowd  in,  all  as  by 
right  entitled.  What  the  atmosphere  is  like  on  those 
occasions  may  better  be  imagined  than  described.  I in- 
variably slept  in  native  houses,  and  never  found  them  other 
than  very  dark,  very  hot  at  night,  and  full  of  smoke,  for 
which  there  is  no  outlet,  chimneys  being  unknown  luxuries 
with  most  of  the  tribes.  Some  of  the  Indians  on  the  Apaporis 
contrive  an  arrangement  that  permits  the  smoke  to  dis- 
appear, and  the  Kuretu  make  what  is  almost  a chimney- 
cowl  by  means  of  an  overhanging  portion  of  the  topmost 
thatch  above  a small  opening  ; 1 but  in  the  ordinary  Boro 
or  Witoto  house  there  is  nothing  to  disperse  the  smoke  from 
the  wood  fires  that,  it  must  be  remembered,  are  never 
extinguished.  These  tribes  have  no  means  of  making 
fire.  It  is  therefore  a matter  of  vital  importance  that  it 
should  never  be  permitted  to  die  out.  Did  such  an  un- 
toward accident  occur  the  household  would  be  fireless  till 
live  embers  were  obtained  from  some  friendly  neighbour. 

Fire-making  is  unknown  to  the  tribes  on  the  south  of 
the  Japura,  but  on  the  north  of  that  river  fire  is  obtained 
by  friction  in  a groove.2  I never  saw  it  done,  but  was  told 
that  ants’  nests  were  often  used  for  tinder.  On  one  occasion 
I made  a fire  by  firing  cartridges  into  a mass  of  leaves  and 
wood  chips,  having  first  extracted  the  bullets  and  replaced 
them  with  cotton  wool.  The  leaves  flamed  up  after  fourteen 
rounds.  Matches  are  sheer  magic  in  the  Indian’s  eyes,  and 

1 Cf.  Wallace,  p.  354. 

2 Crevaux  has  described  the  process.  He  watched  an  Indian  " qui 
fait  du  feu  en  roulant  vivement  un  roseau  dans  une  cavite  creusee  dans  une 
tige  de  roncon  ” ( Voyage  dans  V Amirique  du  sud,  p.  214).  Wallace  mentions 
this  method  among  the  Kuretu,  op.  cit.  355. 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


49 


a box  is  a most  valuable  gift.  He  may  blaze  one,  just  to 
be  certain  that  the  white  man  has  passed  on  some  of  his 
own  magical  powers  along  with  the  wonderful  little  box  of 
sticks,  but  never  more  than  one  is  sacrificed  at  a time. 

What  with  the  heavy  dews  and  the  incessant  rain  the 
bush  is  always  in  a condition  of  reeking  damp,  so  bush 
fires  are  impossible.  Therefore,  when  they  cannot  make  fire, 
the  Indians  must  keep  the  family  fire  burning  night  and 
day,  and  its  preservation  is  the  very  serious  business  of 


Fig.  6. 


every  member  of  the  tribe.  Not  only  do  they  depend  on 
it  for  warmth  and  cooking,  but  the  fitful  glow  of  the 
smouldering  fires  is  on  ordinary  occasions  the  only  light  in 
the  Indian  house.  Torches  of  resinous  wood  are  used  at 
dances  and  such-like  festivals  only.  When  the  tribesmen 
go  into  the  bush  they  always  carry  fire  over  their  shoulders. 
This  is  done  by  means  of  a strip  of  some  resinous  bark, 
about  two  feet  long,  which  they  hold  in  their  hands.  The 
bark  smoulders  slowly,  and  can  at  any  time  be  blown  into 
a flame. 


E 


5o 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


The  fire  is  always  arranged  after  a definite  pattern. 
Three  young  trees  are  placed  together  on  the  ground  end- 
ways, in  the  form  of  a triskeles.  The  fire  is  kindled  in  the 
centre,  and  once  alight  it  will  last  for  as  long  as  a week  at  a 
time.  All  day  when  people  pass,  even  the  little  children, 
they  will  give  a kick  to  a log  to  keep  the  fire  together,  and 
during  the  night  it  is  fed  continually  in  the  same  fashion. 

The  natives  sleep  with  no  more  covering  than  they  have 
worn  in  the  daytime.  The  hammocks  of  the  father,  the 
mother,  and  the  children  are  slung,  as  has  been  said,  in  a 
triangle,  with  the  fire  between  them.  As  the  fire  dies  down 
one  or  other  will  rise  and  push  the  wood  more  closely 
together,  blow  a little  at  the  hot  embers,  and  then  return 
to  rest,  till  about  the  hour  before  sunrise,  when  it  is  coldest. 
Then  every  one  gets  up,  and  when  the  fire  has  been  blown 
into  a blaze  they  wait  for  dawn. 

Dawn  is  the  signal  for  all  to  repair  to  the  river  for  the 
first  bath  of  the  day.  The  girls  come  back  with  big  jars 
full  of  water  on  their  heads,  held  in  position  by  their  up- 
lifted hands.  The  women  go  to  work  in  the  plantations, 
the  men  may  hunt  and  fish.  As  day  advances  into  evening 
the  women  return  again  from  the  plantation,  the  mothers, 
naked  and  shining  from  the  evening  bath,  with  their  children 
seated  astride  their  left  hips ; while  those  not  encumbered 
carry  up  the  pine-apples,  the  plantains,  and  the  manioc, 
packed  in  baskets  that  are  slung  from  their  foreheads. 
Those  who  have  sought  provision  in  the  forest  bring  back 
lizards  and  snakes — it  may  be  a frog,  for  nothing  seems 
amiss  for  the  hot-pot  of  the  Indian.  The  hunters  come  in 
from  the  bush  with  a capybara,  a curassow,  or  a monkey  ; 
the  men  who  preferred  the  river  bring  fish.  Soon  there 
is  a savoury  smell  from  the  cooking  of  cassava  cakes,  the 
boiling  of  meat,  and  the  pungent  odour  of  yarakue.  There 
is  not  much  talk,  and  none  of  the  homely  clatter  of  dishes, 
for  leaves  serve  as  plates  and  napkins,  fingers  for  eating 
utensils.  The  naked  women  crouch  on  their  heels  about 
the  fires ; the  men  stretch  languidly  in  their  hammocks  ; 
and  so  the  Indian  day  passes  by  imperceptible  degrees  again 
to  night. 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


5i 


So  much  for  the  human  inhabitants  of  the  tribal  house- 
hold. There  are  others  of  less  pleasing  character.  Spiders 
are  there,  some  of  an  extraordinary  size,  not  forgetting  the 
deadly  tarantula.  One  day  I placed  my  hand  carelessly 
on  one  of  the  posts  in  an  Indian  house,  and  only  just  with- 
drew it  in  time,  for  it  had  been  within  an  inch  or  two  of  a 
large  mygale.  Scorpions  also  lurk  in  crannies  of  the  thatch, 
but  they  never  bothered  me  in  the  least,  and  although  the 
swelling  was  considerable  in  the  one  or  two  cases  of  bite 
I noted,  there  were  no  after-consequences. 

The  Menimehe,  whose  houses  are  more  open,  make  hives 
of  hollow  trees  for  bees  to  swarm  in,  and  these  are  placed 
in  their  maloka,  so  that  a store  of  honey  and  wax  is  always 
at  hand. 

The  smoke  and  darkness  keep  off  the  pium  and  mosquito, 
but  outside  the  dwelling  ants  abound,  though  their  value  as 
scavengers  does  in  a measure  detract  from  their  general 
undesirability  ; for  it  is  thanks  mainly  to  them  that  there 
are  no  bad  smells  in  the  vicinity  of  a Witoto  home,  as 
cleanliness  is  not  a virtue  of  the  Witoto.  The  daily  rain, 
also,  prevents  any  accumulation  of  filth,  for  everything  of 
that  description  is  continually  washed  away. 

Jiggers  are  found  in  Indian  houses,  though  never  in  the 
bush.  There  need  be  no  trouble  with  these  tiresome 
creatures  if  prompt  attention  be  paid  to  the  part  affected. 
It  is  a common  practice  among  the  Indians  for  the  women 
to  examine  the  men’s  feet  directly  they  come  in,  to  see  that 
they  are  all  right,  and  if  a jigger  is  detected  to  dig  it  out 
with  a palm-spine,  care  being  taken  that  a non-poisonous 
spine  is  selected.1  A very  much  more  serious  injury 
is  inflicted  by  the  blood-sucking  bat.  Not  only  the  forest 
but  the  dark  and  lofty  roof  of  the  native  house  will  often 
harbour  bats  of  several  kinds,  and  occasionally  some  of  the 
Phyllo stoma.  Vampires,  however,  are  more  frequently  met 
with  on  the  main  river  than  on  the  Issa  or  Japura.2  They 


1 If  a jigger  is  removed  at  once  with  a needle  it  will  not  hurt,  and 
scarcely  makes  a puncture. 

2 Vampires  in  this  country  are  few  and  far  between,  but  Simson  men- 
tions them  as  a plague  at  Agnano  (Simson,  p.  131). 


52 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


undoubtedly  attack  sleepers,  and  the  subsequent  loss  of 
blood  may  be  serious,  especially  in  the  case  of  a child. 
The  point  made  for  is  always  the  big  toe,  and  the  wound  is 
so  slight  that  the  victim  does  not  waken,  or  if  awake  is 
hardly  conscious  of  the  hurt.  It  is  possible  that  the  loss 
of  blood  induces  a comatose  state.  I never  actually  saw 
a case,  though  I have  talked  to  persons  who  had  been  bitten. 
But  the  vampire  is  rare  in  these  districts,  whereas  other 
bats  are  common  enough  in  the  forest. 

As  a general  rule  the  Indians  have  no  pets  ; but  on 
one  occasion,  near  a Boro  settlement  on  the  north  of  the 
Japura,  I saw  some  children  of  the  Menimehe  tribes  with 
tame  monkeys.  These  were  the  only  Indians  I ever  met 
who  kept  any  pet.  Animal  food  is  too  scarce  in  the  forest. 
Bates  asserts  that  “ the  Indians  are  very  fond  of  them 
[monkeys]  as  pets,  and  the  women  often  suckle  them  when 
young  at  their  breasts.”  1 I never  heard  of  such  a case  as 
this,  but  certainly  the  monkey  must  be  caught  extremely 
young  to  be  tamable  at  all ; and,  I repeat,  food  is  scarce. 

1 Bates,  i.  246.  For  the  taming  of  a full-grown  Coita  see  p.  247.  An- 
other pet  mentioned  by  Bates,  a " strange  kind  of  wood-cricket,”  is  also 
unknown  to  me  as  a pet,  and  though  I have  often  heard  loud-voiced  insects 
of  the  cricket  class  they  have  never  been  in  captivity  (cf.  Bates,  i.  250). 


CHAPTER  IV 


Classification  of  Indian  races— Difficulties  of  tabulating — Language- 
groups  and  tribes — Names — Sources  of  confusion — Witoto  and  Boro — 
Localities  of  language-groups — Population  of  districts — Intertribal 
strife — Tribal  enemies  and  friends — Reasons  for  endless  warfare — 
Intertribal  trade  and  communications — Relationships — Tribal  organ- 
isation— The  chief,  his  position  and  powers — Law — Tribal  council — 
Tobacco -drinking — Marriage  system  and  regulations — Position  of 
women — Slaves. 


Given  equal  conditions,  similar  environment,  the  human 
race,  wheresoever  on  this  globe  its  lot  be  cast,  shows  a 
marked  sameness  in  its  traits  and  habits.  This  need  not, 
in  fact  does  not,  argue  a unity  of  origin.  There  is  no  reason 
why  a custom  may  not  be  indigenous  in  many  parts  of  the 
world,  among  peoples  labouring  under  like  conditions  ; 
and  if  the  same  customs  be  evolved  the  same  cultural  types 
will  also  be  found  to  exist.  Thus  it  is  easy  to  find  even 
striking  resemblances  between  these  Indians  of  Amazonia 
and  such  distant  peoples  as  the  Arunta  of  Central  Australia, 
the  cannibal  tribes  of  pagan  Malay,  or,  to  go  even  wider 
afield,  the  Basque  people  of  Southern  Europe.  This  does 
not  for  a moment  suggest  that  such  common  beliefs,  customs, 
or  cultures  have  been  introduced  from  one  to  the  other, 
or  even  borrowed  from  a common  stock.  The  human  mind 
seems  to  work  broadly  on  certain  definite  planes  of  thought, 
and  there  is  less  mental  difference  between  the  low-type 
illiterate  of  a London  slum  and  the  denizens  of  a tropical 
forest  than  there  is  between  him  and  the  learned  occupant 
of  a University  Chair,  though  both  be  nominally  of  the  same 
nation. 

Attempts  are  continually  made  to  evolve  some  working 
classification  of  the  South  American  Indians.  The  main 


53 


54 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


difficulty,  the  sparsity  of  common  factors,  despite  general 
similarity,  is  due  in  a measure  at  least  to  the  absence  of  any 
standard,  any  fixity  of  language,  or  any  confederation 
between  the  units  of  these  races.  The  only  rule  is  that  there 
is  no  rule.  What  was  a common  word  yesterday  is  possibly 
forgotten  to-day  ; the  custom  shared  a generation  ago  may 
vary  now  past  recognition,  and  to-morrow  will  see  further 
changes  that' increase  the  diversity.  These  people  are  in  a 
state  of  flux.  Disintegration  is  the  determinant  influence  ; 
nothing  makes  for  amalgamation.  A section  of  a tribe 
isolated  from  the  remainder,  surrounded  by  neighbours 
whose  speech,  whose  physical  features,  are  entirely  different, 
may  develop  into  a distinct  tribe  with  dialect  and  customs 
as  variant  from  the  parent  tribe  as  from  those  in  its  new 
vicinage.1  But  extinction  rather  than  such  increase  is  the 
more  probable  fate.  These  tribes  are  hardly  embryos  of 
nations  to  be,  nor  can  they  be  entirely  classified  as  the 
decadent  remnants  of  perishing  races.  Rather  did  it  seem 
to  me  that,  despite  the  awful  handicap  of  their  environment, 
ithey  were  gradually  evolving  a higher  culture.  Their  origin 
is  a problem  of  no  small  interest,  but  one  on  which  recorded 
history  throws  exceedingly  little  light.  Whether  they  be 
the  autochthonous  sons  of  American  soil,  or  the  stranded 
vanguard  of  successive  waves  of  Mongoloid  immigrants 
pushed  southwards  to  be  swallowed  up  in  the  Amazonian 
forests,2  or — which  is  most  probable— a combination  of  both, 
can  only  be  in  part  determined  by  the  study  of  their  physical 
traits,  their  habits,  customs,  speech,  morals,  and  beliefs. 
It  is  for  the  comparative  anthropologist,  the  comparative 
folklorist,  to  find  an  answer. 

As  an  instance  of  the  difficulty  of  classification,  and  the 
confusion  that  has  resulted  in  much  of  the  literature  on  this 
subject,  the  statements  given  in  the  Contemporary  Science 
Series  volume,  The  Races  of  Man,  may  be  examined.  Deni- 
ker  orders  the  Indians  in  four  divisions — Carib,  Arawak, 
Miranha,  and  Pano  ; and  classifies  the  Witoto  in  the  first, 
taking  the  determinative  ethnic  distinction  to  be  “ their 
acquaintance  with  the  hammock,  a plaited  (not  woven) 
1 Cf.  Martius,  P.R.G.S.  ii.  192.  2 See  Appendix. 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


55 


texture,  and  a particular  kind  of  cassava-squeezer.”  1 If 
this  is  correct  and  sufficient,  all  the  Indians  of  the  middle 
Issa-Japura  regions  are  Caribs.  But  I do  not  think  the 
arguments  are  conclusive.  For  example,  “ the  practice  of 
the  ‘ couvade  ’ ” is  given  as  racially  distinctive  of  the  Carib.2 
But  couvade  is  by  no  means  peculiar  to  the  Carib.  In  this 
region  it  is  a common  custom  of  the  Witoto  and  the  Boro, 
who  are  linguistically  and  physically  diverse.3  Then,  as 
regards  the  hammock,  it  has  been  pointed  out  by  Sir  Everard 
im  Thurn,  who  holds  that  the  Carib  did  not  migrate  to  British 
Guiana  from  the  interior  but  from  the  islands,4  that  the 
Caribs  of  Guiana,  the  “ stranger  tribes,”  as  he  calls  them, 
that  is,  tribes  who  have  migrated  thither,  “ make  their 
hammocks  of  cotton,”  while  the  native  tribes  use  palm-fibre.5 
None  of  the  Issa-Japura  tribes  make  use  of  cotton  yam  for 
their  hammocks  ; it  is,  in  fact,  almost  unknown  to  them, 
and  what  little  they  may  possess  is  presumably  obtained  by 
barter,  for  to  the  best  of  my  knowledge  they  do  not  prepare 
it,  or  know  how  to  prepare  it ; palm-fibre  only  is  used  by 
them.  The  explanation  probably  is  that  Deniker  apparently 
confuses  the  Karahone  and  the  Witoto,  as  he  speaks  of  “ the 
Uitotos  or  Carijonas,”  as  though  they  were  the  same,  instead 
of  a totally  distinct  group  of  tribes.  He  also  gives  Crevaux 
as  his  authority,  when  he  states  that  the  Witoto — according 
to  him  a Carib  group — “ live  side  by  side  with  the  Miranhas,” 
Miranha  being  differentiated  as  a distinct  branch.  But  Dr. 
Crevaux  speaks  of  “ Ouitotos  ou  Miranhas,”  6 and  remarks 
that  “ Les  Miranhas  du  Yapura  sont  appeles  par  leurs 
voisins  ‘ Ouitotos.’  ” 7 It  would  seem,  then,  that  the 

1 Deniker,  p.  552. 

2 Marriage  by  capture  was  a Carib  custom  (Westermarck,  p.  383). 
It  is  unknown  nowadays  to  the  tribes  south  of  the  Japura. 

3 Partial  couvade  is  found  also  among  tribes  in  the  north  of  America, 
that  is  to  say,  certain  things  are  tabu  to  the  father  after  the  child’s  birth. 
Cf.  Dorsey,  Siouan  Cults,  p.  511  ; Venegas,  i.  94  ; Tylor,  pp.  294-7. 

1 im  Thurn,  p.  173.  Joyce  locates  the  original  Caribs  on  the  upper 
Xingu,  from  whence,  he  considers,  they  spread  over  Guiana  and  the  lesser 
Antilles  ( South  American  Archceology , p.  256).  Rodway,  on  the  authority  of 
Spanish  chronicled  Arawak  information,  suggests  they  were  the  original  in- 
habitants of  the  north-west  coast,  migrant  from  Mexico  ( Guiana , pp.  41,  45). 

6 Ibid.  pp.  171-2. 

6 Crevaux,  Fleuves  de  V Amirique  du  Sud,  Yapura,  F.  5 et  7. 

7 Crevaux,  Vocabulaire  franfais-roucouyenne. 


56 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


French  traveller  considered  that  the  Witoto  language-group 
belongs  to  the  same  racial  division  as  the  Miranha  language- 
group,  though,  as  Dr.  Koch-Griinberg  remarks,  the  languages 
of  these  groups  “ ne  presentent  aucun  signe  de  parente  entre 
elles.”  1 In  fact,  he  is  of  the  opinion  that  “ on  serait  sans 
doubte  plus  pres  de  la  verite  si  on  rattachait  les  differents 
dialectes  paries  dans  la  region  des  Ouitotos  a un  groupe 
linguistique  nouveau.”  This  he  designates  the  groupe 
Ouitoto .2  Miranha  or  Miranya  is  the  name  given  to  the 
Boro  by  the  tribes  on  the  north,  and  is  the  lingoa-geral  name 
for  the  Boro  and  other  groups.  The  word  means  a wanderer, 
a gratuitous  distinction  where  all  tribes  have  nomadic  tend- 
encies, and  this  may  be  the  reason  why  it  has  apparently 
been  applied  to  several  groups. 

It  is  not  surprising  that  there  should  be  confusion  over 
any  attempted  classification  of  these  peoples,  for  not  only 
are  there  many  language-groups,  each  with  numerous  tribes, 
but  in  addition  to  this  a group  or  a tribe  will  have  not  one 
distinct  name  by  which  it  may  be  known  and  classed,  but  a 
number  of  names,  so  that  inevitably  the  writer  without 
personal  knowledge  of  a group  will  be  easily  misled  in 
dealing  with  it  and  its  divisions. 

So  far  as  the  Indians  are  concerned  no  language-group 
and  no  tribe  use  the  esoteric  name.  They  talk  simply  of 
“ our  speech  ” or  “ our  own  people,”  and  they  are  named, 
and  frequently  named  differently,  by  the  surrounding  tribes. 
The  Boro,  for  example,  are  known  as  Boro  to  the  tribes 
from  the  west  and  south,  as  Miranya  to  some  of  those  of  the 
east  and  the  north  ; the  same  tribe  would  therefore  be  Boro 
to  the  Witoto  and  Miranya  to  the  Yuri  or  the  Menimehe. 
The  Dukaiya  are  called  Okaina — which  means  “capybara” — 
by  the  Witoto,  though  they  are  also  called  Dukaiya,  which 
is  the  extra-tribal  name  of  their  most  powerful  tribe  or 
section.  Muenane  and  Nonuya  are  also  Witoto  names.3 
Witoto  is  the  esoteric  name  for  mosquito,  but  the  Witoto 

1 Koch-Griinberg,  Journal  de  la  Socilte  des  A mkricainistes  de  Paris,  tome 
iii.  No.  2 (1906). 

2 Koch-Griinberg,  Zeitschrift  fur  Ethnologie,  xxxviii.  189. 

3 It  must  be  remembered  that  I came  to  all  these  people  from  the  Witoto 
country. 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


57 


tribes  were  thus  named  by  the  tribes  on  the  south  either 
because  the  name  has  the  same  meaning  in  their  language 
or  because  they  had  learned  the  Witoto  word  for  this  insect. 
In  this  case  the  esoteric  name  is  the  same  as  the  exoteric. 
Crevaux  gives  ouitoto  as  the  word  for  “ enemy  ” among 
the  Karahone  and  the  Roucouyennes,1  and  Martius  has  a 
similar  word  for  that  meaning  among  other  tribes.2  All 
this  adds  to  the  difficulties  of  nomenclature.  It  must  be 
understood,  also,  that  if  you  ask  a Witoto,  “ 0 Memeka  bu  ? ” 
(What  tribe  do  you  belong  to  ?)  he  would  not  tell  you,  but 
he  would  answer  in  the  affirmative  if  the  question  be  put  as 
to  whether  he  belongs  to  a certain  tribe  or  to  a certain 
group,  though  he  will  not  himself  use  the  tribal  or  group 
name.  This  applies  to  all  Indians.  Moreover,  there  is  the 
very  thorny  question  of  spelling.  I have  throughout  adopted 
the  rule  laid  down  by  the  Royal  Geographical  Society,  and 
spelt  words  with  English  consonants — that  is  to  say,  with 
their  equivalent  values — and  Italian  vowels.  This  is  the 
most  generally  accepted  method,  but  even  with  this  peculi- 
arities of  ear  must  result  in  sundry  variants. 

Another  source  of  confusion  in  writing  about  these  peoples 
has  been  the  indiscriminate  use  of  the  words  nation,  tribe, 
clan,  family.  To  avoid  possibility  of  mistake  it  may  be 
explained  at  the  outset  that  tribe  is  here  used  in  the  sense 
ruled  by  the  new  editions  of  both  the  Anthropological  and 
the  Folklore  Handbooks,  that  is  to  say,  “ a group  with  a 
common  language,  code  of  law,  some  rude  form  of  govern- 
ment, and  capable  of  uniting  for  common  action.”  These 
tribes  I would  further  classify  into  language-groups,  such  as 
the  Witoto  language-group,  the  Boro  language-group,  and 
so  forth.  The  group  name — Witoto,  Boro,  Andoke,  or 
whatever  the  case  may  be — applies  to  all  the  tribes  of  these 
groups,  in  addition  to  their  individual  names.  The  varia- 
tions between  these  tribes  of  a group  are  mainly  dialectic 
and  local,  but  the  variance  between  tribes  of  alien  groups 
is  more  than  a difference  of  speech  and  custom.  The  Boro, 
for  instance,  are  distinctly  Chinese  in  appearance  ; their 


1 Crevaux,  Voyages  dans  V Am&rique  du  Sud,  p.  368. 
2 Martius,  Beilrage,  ii.  340. 


58  THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 

neighbours  the  Witoto  resemble  rather  the  Dyaks  of 
Borneo. 

The  two  groups  with  which  we  are  mainly  concerned, 
and  the  only  two  with  which  it  is  possible  in  this  book  to 
deal  seriously  in  detail,  are  the  Witoto  and  the  Boro.  They 
occupy  roughly  the  lands  between  the  J apura  and  the  Igara 
Parana,  and  the  Igara  Parana  and  the  Issa,  though  there 
are  no  actual  boundaries.  The  Boro  country  lies  north- 
west of  the  Futahi  Hills,  in  the  watersheds  of  the  Pupuna 
and  the  Kahuanari  rivers.  The  Boro  also  occupy  a stretch 
of  country  north  of  the  Japura,  where  that  river  bends 
south  and  east  below  its  junction  with  the  Wama,  and 
including  part  of  the  Ira  watershed.  On  this,  the  north- 
east border,  they  meet  the  country  of  the  Menimehe,  while 
on  the  north  they  touch  the  Karahone  country.  The 
Resigero  and  Nonuya  districts  lie  between  them  and  the 
Muenane.  The  country  by  the  Futahi  Hills  west  of  the 
Igara  Parana,  that  is  to  say,  the  basins  of  the  Esperanza 
and  Sabalo  Yacu  rivers,  is  very  sparsely  populated,  and  the 
Dukaiya  country  on  the  west  of  the  Nonuya  practically 
separates  the  Witoto  and  the  Boro  on  the  north-west. 
From  the  mouth  of  an  unnamed  tributary  of  the  Japura — 
below  the  Tauauru  and  on  the  opposite  bank — the  Andoke 
country  runs  south  of  the  Japura  to  the  junction  of  the 
Kuemani,  where  the  Japura  becomes  the  boundary  between 
the  Andoke  and  the  Witoto.  On  the  west  the  Orahone 
country  lies  on  the  farther  side  of  the  Issa  from  the  Witoto, 
the  Issa  being  the  dividing  line  from  the  west  and  south- 
west of  the  Witoto  group.  The  name  Orahone  is  given  to 
all  tribes  indiscriminately  if  they  elongate  the  lobes  of  their 
ears,1  so  the  Orahone,  or  Long-ears,  may  possibly  be  many 
distinct  tribes.  Thus,  one  writer  notes  of  the  Napo  tribes,  the 
“Cotos”  and  the  “Tutapishcos,”  that  they  “are  sometimes 
called  ‘ Orejones,’  ” but  are  not  so  known  locally.2  The 
Orahone  are  of  a low  type.  To  the  east  of  the  Menimehe 
and  the  Boro  districts  the  Kuretu  language-group  of  tribes 

1 The  Inca  were  called  Orejones  by  the  Spaniards  on  account  of  the 
large  studs  they  wore  in  the  lobes  of  their  ears.  See  Joyce,  p.  no; 
Ratzel,  ii.  172. 

2 Simson,  p.  210. 


diagrammatic  map  of  the  1SSA-JAPURA  CENTRAL  WATERSHED 

SHOWING  LANGUAGE  GROUPS 

BY 

CAPTAIN  THOMAS  W.  WHIFPEN 


50  40  30  20 


Scale  of  English  Miles 

TO  0 50 


100 


Reference 

Some  language  groups  are  enclosed  by  a thick  line  thus^m^^^ 
and  the  name  of  each  is  shown  in  this  character  BORO 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


59 


occupy  the  country  north  and  south  of  the  Japura.  To 
the  north  the  Opaina,  Makuna,  and  Tukana  groups  interpose 
between  them  and  the  Bara  and  Maku  groups.  The  Maku 
are  found  from  the  Rio  Negro  to  the  Apaporis,  and  again 
above  the  Bara  group  north  of  the  Arara  Hills  about  the 
Kaouri  river,  a tributary  of  the  Uaupes.  Though  the  Bara 
group  live  to  the  north  of  the  Apaporis  they  have  nothing 
in  common  with  the  Uaupes  Indians.  Both  their  language 
and  customs  resemble  more  those  of  the  Japura,  and  they 
have  no  intercourse  with  the  surrounding  tribes.  They  are 
a dark-skinned  people,  of  a low  type,  and  consequently 
looked  down  on  by  their  lighter-skinned  neighbours.  The 
Maku,  also  of  a low  type  and  dark,  are  a very  nomadic 
group ; in  fact  all  these  peoples  are  wanderers,  and  the 
districts  here  given  for  their  localities  must  be  taken  as 
merely  approximate.  That  they  were  there  when  I was  in 
the  country  is  no  guarantee  that  they  will  be  found  there 
now,  or  a few  years  hence.  The  locality  of  a tribe,  or  a 
language-group,  is  mainly  dependent  on  the  locality  of  its 
neighbours,  especially  of  any  powerful  or  warlike  body. 
The  tribes  of  the  upper  Issa  districts  are  semi-civilised 
Colombian,  those  of  the  lower  waters  semi-civilised  Brazilian 
Indians.  Only  in  the  middle  district  have  the  tribes  been 
free,  until  recently,  from  the  influence  of  the  white  man. 

It  is  almost  impossible  to  give  the  populations  of  these 
districts  even  in  round  figures.  My  own  estimate  for  the  nine 
language-groups  of  the  Issa -Japura  region,  based  roughly 
on  the  number  of  houses  and  the  extent  of  country,  is  as 
follows : but,  I repeat,  these  figures  must  be  taken  as  very  ap- 
proximate, and  are  probably  overestimated  in  some  cases : — 


Witoto  group  of  tribes  . . . 15,000 

Boro  group  .....  15,000 

Dukaiya  or  Okaina  group  . . . 2,000 

Muenane  group  ....  2,000 

Nonuya  group  ....  1,000 

Resigero  group  ....  1,000 

Andoke  group  ....  10,000 

Menimehe  group  ....  15,000 

Karahone  group  ....  25,000 


6o 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


making  a total  of  eighty-six  thousand,  or  well  under  a 
hundred  thousand.  Koch-Griinberg  estimates  the  Witoto- 
language  group  as  comprising  at  least  twenty  thousand 
souls,1  and  a Peruvian  official  estimate  gives  thirty  thousand 
as  the  supposed  total,  reduced  within  the  last  decade  to  some 
ten  thousand.2  It  is  practically  impossible  to  obtain  any 
reliable  figure.  Koch-Griinberg  gives  six  thousand  as  his 
estimate  of  the  number  of  the  Miranha.  I am  inclined  to 
think  in  this  case  the  number  is  insufficient,  and  should 
place  it  at  from  fifteen  to  twenty  thousand. 

All  the  tribes  north  of  the  Japura  have  a mortal  anti- 
pathy to  all  those  south  of  that  river,  and  think  they  are 
savages.  The  light-coloured  tribes,  as  I have  mentioned, 
invariably  despise  the  darker  races,  and  consider  them  of  a 
lower  grade  than  themselves,  as,  it  will  be  seen,  is  actually 
the  case.  The  Maku,  a tribe  of  small  dark  people,  are  uni- 
versally regarded  and  treated  as  slaves  ; the  Witoto,  smaller 
and  darker  than  the  adjacent  Boro,  are  physically  inferior, 
and  far  less  particular  in  their  ways  and  in  the  observance 
of  tribal  customs.  The  Andoke,  sometimes  called  the 
white  Indians  on  account  of  their  fairer  skins,3  are  the 
tyrants  and  bullies  of  all  their  neighbours  ; and  it  has  been 
suggested  that  the  warlike  Awashiri,  who  are  the  terror  of 
the  Napo  Piohe  and  Orahone  tribes,  are  nomad  Andoke  or 
Miranha.  Certainly  both  these  people  wander  far  from 
their  usual  districts.  So  feared  are  the  Andoke  that  Boro 
carriers  will  refuse  to  go  into  the  bush  in  the  Andoke  country. 

Wallace  credits  the  Kuretu  with  peaceable  habits,4  but 
for  the  most  part  all  these  peoples  live  in  a constant  state 
of  internecine  strife.  Some  friendship,  or  perhaps  — as 
tribes  never  make  friendships  outside  their  own  language 
area — it  would  be  more  correct  to  call  it  intertribal  commerce, 
takes  place  between  certain  of  these  groups  ; and  a mutual 
hatred  of  one  group  will  occasionally  form  a vague  tie 
between  others.  For  instance,  the  Boro,  Resigero,  and 
Okaina  may  not  love  each  other,  but  they  agree  in  their 


1 Koch-Griinberg,  Zeitschrift  fur  Ethnologie,  xxxviii.  188  (1906). 

2 Cd.  6266,  pp.  9,  10,  12,  25,  26. 

3 Rice,  p.  690.  4 Wallace,  p.  354. 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


61 


detestation  of  the  Witoto.  The  Okaina  and  the  Andoke 
are  practically  at  ceaseless  war  with  all  their  neighbours, 
but  the  Andoke  have  some  traffic  with  the  Muenane  and 
with  the  wandering  Karahone,  who  serve  to  link  up  the 
tribes  of  the  north  with  those  of  the  south  of  the  Japura, 
though  they  are  separate  from  all  other  tribes.  The  Boro 
on  the  left  bank  of  the  Japura,  where  they  migrated  into 
territory  trenching  on  that  of  the  Menimehe,  are  on  fairly 
amicable  terms  with  the  latter,  and  I have  even  seen  a Boro 
man  with  the  Menimehe  tribal  mark,  though  menimehe 
means  “ pig  ” in  Boro.  Possibly  he  had  married  a Meni- 
mehe woman.  The  Boro  and  Resigero  also  intermarry — 
at  least  cases  of  such  marriages  are  known.  The  Tukana 
and  Bara  tribes  on  the  Tikie  will  not  marry  into  any 
other  tribe,  except  the  Maku,  who  will  intermarry  with 
any. 

This  state  of  endless  warfare  is  based  not  on  avarice 
but  on  fear.  They  fight  because  they  are  afraid  of  each 
other,  and  see  no  protection  but  in  the  extermination  of 
their  neighbours.  Every  ill  that  befalls  a man  they  set 
down  to  the  evil  intent  of  an  enemy.  Death,  from  whatso- 
ever cause,  is  invariably  considered  to  be  murder,  and  as 
murder  it  has  to  be  revenged  on  some  suspected  person  or 
persons.  Hence  it  follows  that  blood-feuds  innumerable 
are  carried  on  relentlessly.  Any  and  every  excuse  serves 
for  a fight.  If  a thunderstorm  should  wreck  a house  it  is 
more  than  sufficient  reason  for  that  household  to  attack 
another  in  reprisal  of  the  damage  done  ; for  it  is  to  them 
quite  evident  that  the  catastrophe  was  caused  by  the  magic 
of  some  malicious  dweller  in  the  vicinity. 

This  state  of  abject  apprehension  influences  the  tribesmen 
in  other  ways.  It  will  be  found  as  root  cause  of  many  a 
tribal  custom,  and  must  not  be  forgotten  in  judging  of 
native  character  and  morals. 

One  result  is  that  there  are  no  recognised  native  trade 
routes  or  trade  centres,  to  the  best  of  my  knowledge,  nor 
are  there  any  markets  where  the  tribes  of  any  language- 
group  may  meet  and  exchange  their  wares.  Even  local 
markets  are  non-existent.  Trade  is  individual.  Articles 


62 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


of  commerce  are  handed  from  the  maker  to  the  purchaser, 
from  the  owner  to  the  buyer,  from  tribe  to  tribe.  If  a tribe 
be  renowned  for  pottery,  as  are  the  Menimehe,  such  pottery 
could  only  be  obtained  from  a Menimehe,  or  bought  “ second- 
hand ” from  tribes  living  in  the  neighbourhood  of  the  pottery 
workers,  and  from  them  traded  to  others,  third,  fourth,  and 
even  fifth  hand.  That  articles  are  bought  and  passed  on 
indefinitely  in  this  fashion  is  proved  by  the  fact  that  I found 
a Price’s  candle-box  among  the  Boro  tribes  on  the  Pama 
river,  who  had  had  no  relations  with  the  white  man  before 
my  advent.  After  all,  the  wants  of  the  Indian  are  few  and 
simple,  and  he  can  supply  most  of  them  for  himself,  or  at 
least  a community  can  furnish  its  own  ; extra-tribal  goods 
are  distinctly  luxuries. 

It  would  be  futile  to  attempt  to  give  any  localities  for 
the  many  tribes  into  which  the  language-groups  are  divided  ; 
for  if  the  group  as  a whole  is  to  be  regarded  as  a roving 
quantity,  the  tribes  and  their  component  units  are  far  more 
uncertain,  in  view  of  their  migratory  habits.  I have  there- 
fore not  done  more  than  make  lists  of  the  tribes  met  with 
in  the  middle  Issa -Japura  districts,  without  reference  to 
the  exact  spot  they  might  have  temporarily  inhabited 
when  I met  them.1  These  lists,  which  do  not  pretend  to  be 
exhaustive,  contain  the  names  of  136  Witoto  tribes,  41 
Boro,  and  15  Okaina. 

The  “ Maynanes,”  “ Recegaros,”  and  “ Yabuyanos  ” 
mentioned  by  Hardenburg 2 as  Witoto  “ sub-tribes,  or 
naciones,”  are  not  Witoto  at  all,  and  nacione  is  not  a recog- 
nised name  for  these  divisions,  but  merely  adopted  from  the 
loose  jargon  of  the  rubber-gatherer.  Nor  is  the  same 
writer  correct  in  considering  the  Witoto  to  be  “ the  largest 
and  most  important  tribe,”  as  the  Karahone  outnumber 
them  considerably,  and  many  other  language-groups  are 
decidedly  more  important  in  both  the  social  and  the 
scientific  scale. 

There  is  nothing  to  show  any  affinity  among  the  tribes, 
and  there  is  none  of  the  intricate  relationship  of  the 


1 See  Appendix. 
Hardenburg,  Man,  p.  134. 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


63 

« 

Australian  systems.  ' The  social  unit  of  the  tribes  is  the 
undivided  household  community  of  some  sixty  to  two 
hundred  individuals,  with  a common  house,  under  the 
rule  of  a chief.  Some  tribes  have  but  one  central  tribal 
house,  others  may  have  two  or  three  ; but  each  house 
would  have  its  absolutely  independent  chief  and  would  be 
exogamous.  There  is  no  head  chief  or  central  organisation 
to  bind  these  households  in  the  tribe,  any  more  than  there 
is  to  unite  the  tribes  of  any  language-group.  Intertribal 
fighting  is  continual,  and  only  some  great  common  danger, 
some  threatened  calamity  of  the  gravest,  might  serve  to 
combine  the  tribes  in  a supreme  effort  for  self-defence.  A 
man  with  an  unusual  magnetic  influence  might  so  dominate 
his  neighbours  as  to  weld  tribe  and  tribe  for  extra-tribal 
struggle.  At  the  most  some  half-dozen  tribes  under  spur 
of  most  hazardous  peril,  urged  to  superhuman  effort  by 
imminent  torture  and  death,  ever  unite  even  for  war.  On 
the  rare  occasions  when  this  may  be  done  the  exceptional 
individual  would  be  but  the  greatest  among  equals,  not 
a recognised  commander-in-chief.1  I only  know  of  one 
instance  in  point.  Nonugamue,  a Nonuya,  was  paramount 
chief  of  the  entire  Nonuya-speaking  area,  a large  tract  of 
country  that  lies  between  the  Boro  and  the  Okaina,  and 
south  of  the  Muenane  and  Resigero  tribes.  It  was  quite  a 
recent  usurpation  on  the  part  of  this  chief,  and  I never 
discovered  any  other  case  of  one  man  influencing  so  large 
a district.  It  is  true  that  a Boro  chief  named  Katenere  did 
get  together  a band  of  men  numbering  from  thirty  to  forty 
to  make  war  to  the  death  against  the  white  rubber-gatherers  ; 
but  in  this  instance,  though  he  was  of  notable  personality, 
he  could  not  combine  the  tribes.  His  band  were  all  Boro, 
simply  men  of  his  own  type,  the  boldest  spirits  of  various 
tribes.  A Resigero  chief  also  made  himself  notorious  by 
collecting  a body  of  warriors  to  make  war  not  on  the  white 

1 This  combination  is  of  so  exceptional  a character  that  it  is  hardly 
to  be  recognised  as  a definite  trait  of  organisation,  and  it  follows  that 
though  such  exceptional  cases  may  point  to  a possible  past  unity  of  clans 
as  a tribe,  these  clans  are  now  practically  small  tribes,  being  incapable 
of  combining  for  common  action.  The  expressions  language-group,  tribe, 
and  tribesman  are  therefore  more  correct  than  tribe,  clan,  and  clansman 
would  be. 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


64 

men  but  on  those  Indians  who  gave  way  to  the  pressure 
put  upon  them  by  these  whites  and  agreed  to  work  rubber. 
He  warred,  therefore,  against  his  own  tribe,  against  members 
of  his  own  language-group,  and  he  did  so  lest  worse  should 
befall  his  people.  He  knew  of  no  other  remedy  than  to 
make  the  punishment  for  yielding  equal  to  that  for  refusing 
to  yield.  Nothing  less  in  his  opinion  could  save  the  tribes. 
Once  I came  upon  a habitation  with  the  dead  bodies  of 
thirty-eight  men,  women  and  children — for  he  spared  none 
who  had  any  dealing  with  the  whites.  They  had  been  slain, 
and  the  house  partly  burnt,  by  this  chief.  In  consequence 
of  these  drastic  measures  he  was  feared  by  whites  and 
Indians  alike,  and  both  when  walking  through  the  bush 
within  possible  distance  of  his  district  would  start  at  a 
sound  every  few  minutes  and  imagine  it  was  this  redoubt- 
able warrior  on  the  warpath  again. 

But  these  cases  were  abnormal,  due  to  the  presence  of 
new  and  evil  factors  that  threatened  the  tribes  with  a fate 
to  which  death  itself  were  preferable.  It  was  the  instance 
of  the  approach  of  an  unparalleled  danger,  the  signal  for 
supreme  exertion,  and  for  unexampled  negligence  of  customs 
that  are  stronger  than  all  law. 

In  normal  conditions  the  chief  has  no  influence  beyond 
his  own  household,  and  the  extent  of  that  influence  would 
depend  largely  on  the  man’s  personal  character,  and  also 
the  character  of  the  rival  authority,  the  tribal  medicine- 
man. Whichever  happens  to  possess  the  strongest  per- 
sonality would  be  the  dominant  spirit  of  their  little  com- 
munity. Other  things  being  equal,  the  odds  are  decidedly 
in  favour  of  the  medicine-man — death  comes  speedily  to 
those  who  rebel  against  the  magic-worker — and  a weak 
chief  would  be  entirely  subservient  to  him. 

The  chief  has  a special  portion  of  the  house  assigned  to 
him  and  his  family,  a larger  share  than  would  be  allotted 
to  any  other  man  ; but  this  privilege  is  necessary,  as  all 
prisoners  belong  to  the  chief,  and  he  takes  all  the  unattached 
women.  As  he  thus  has  more  women  to  work  for  him  the 
big  tribal  plantations  become  his.  He  leads  the  tribe  in 
war,  presides  over  the  tobacco  palaver,  and  has  the  last 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


65 

word  in  the  tribal  councils.  The  chief  has  no  special  name, 
for  there  are  no  titles  of  courtesy,  except  among  the  Andoke, 
who  call  a chief  Posoa.  The  ordinary  warrior  will  talk  to 
the  chief  with  no  outward  sign  of  respect ; still,  the  chief's 
word  carries  a great  amount  of  weight. 

On  the  death  of  a chief  his  successor  must  be  elected  by 
the  tribe,  and  though  the  son  as  a rule  is  appointed,  he  does 
not  become  chief  as  a matter  of  course,  but  only  after  tribal 
selection.  If  due  cause  should  be  shown  against  him,  and 
the  tribe  be  of  accord  on  the  point  when  the  matter  has 
been  discussed  in  tobacco  palaver,  another  man  would  be 
chosen,  and  the  honour  conferred  on  him  in  accordance  with 
tribal  decision  independent  of  relationship. 

There  is  but  one  law  among  the  tribes,  and  that  law  is 
paramount  and  infrangible — Pia,  it  is  our  custom.  Custom, 
more  binding  than  any  legal  code,  shepherds  the  Indian 
from  the  cradle  to  the  grave.  And  Pia  is  not  only  the  law, 
it  is  the  reason  for  all  things.  So  it  has  always  been. 
Neither  the  chief,  the  medicine-man,  nor  the  tribal  council 
makes  the  law,  though  it  is  the  business  of  all  three  to  en- 
force it,  and  it  can  only  be  set  aside,  on  the  rare  instances 
when  such  liberty  would  be  tolerated,  with  the  consent  of 
the  tribesmen  given  in  formal  conclave. 

The  tribal  council  consists  of  all  the  males  of  the  house- 
hold who  have  attained  to  man’s  estate,  under  the  presi- 
dency of  the  chief  ; and  the  Indian  parliament,  the  Indian 
court  of  law,  is  the  tobacco  palaver. 

This  tobacco  drinking — the  chupe  del  tabac,  as  Robuchon 
calls  it — of  which  so  much  has  been  written,  must  not  be 
confounded  with  the  kawana  drinking  at  a dance.  When 
word  has  gone  round  that  it  is  desired  to  hold  a council 
the  warriors  and  elders  of  the  tribe  foregather,  and  squat 
on  their  haunches  round  the  tobacco-pot,  which  is  placed 
by  one  of  the  assembly  on  the  ground  in  their  midst.  One 
of  the  group  will  start  the  subject  to  be  brought  under 
discussion,  usually  the  Indian  whose  advice  or  suggestion 
has  influenced  the  chief  to  call  the  council,  or  the  one  who 
has  a cause  to  lay  before  the  tribe.  It  may  be  a matter  of 
war,  some  question  of  hunting,  or  the  wrong-doing  of  a 

F 


66 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


fellow-tribesman  that  has  to  be  discussed  and  judged.  The 
speaker  is  doubtless  under  the  influence  of  coca,  and  will  talk 
on  and  on.  He  may  take  hours  to  deliver  his  oration,  given 
with  endless  repetitions,  while  those  who  agree  with  him 
will  grunt  “ Heu  ! ” to  show  approval  from  time  to  time 
throughout  the  performance.  When  his  final  word  is 
uttered  the  spokesman  will  reach  forward  and  take  the 
pot,  dip  in  a short  stick,  and  wipe  some  of  the  black 
liquid  on  his  tongue.  He  will  then  pass  the  pot  round  to 
his  companions,  and  every  man  who  has  agreed  with  him 
will  take  tobacco,  whilst  any  one  who  passes  the  pot  by 
— to  signify  he  disagrees — will  be  bound  to  give  his  reason 
for  being  of  an  opposite  opinion.  This  is  continued  until 
all  in  disagreement  with  the  original  speaker  have  put 
forth  their  views.  The  question  at  issue  is  then  settled 
by  whichever  side  may  have  the  majority,  the  chief  having 
the  casting  vote.  There  is  no  appeal  against  such  settle- 
ment. It  is  absolutely  final. 

The  passing  of  tobacco  is  also  used  as  a binding  promise 
on  every  verbal  agreement  between  individuals.  In  this 
case  they  will  dip  a small  stick  like  a match  into  the  liquid 
and  pass  it  over  the  tongue,  or  put  their  forefingers  into 
each  other’s  tobacco  pots,  made  from  the  hollowed  husks 
of  nuts,  and  which  are  usually  carried  suspended  round  the 
neck  by  a string.  The  tobacco  pot  comes  into  requisition 
again  at  a friendly  meeting,  and  serves  to  emphasise  the 
binding  nature  of  the  friendship. 

Though  these  Indians  now  all  hold  to  patrilineal  and 
patrilocal  law,  there  are  traces  that  point  to  possibly  original 
matrilocal  customs  among  them,  such  as  still  obtain  among 
some  of  the  tribes  of  British  Guiana.1  We  find  survivals  of 
marriage  by  capture  ; but  in  no  tribe  are  the  girls  sold,  nor 
have  they  any  dowry.  The  husband,  once  he  has  obtained 
his  wife,  is  entirely  responsible  for  her  maintenance. 

Both  endogamy  and  exogamy,  with  a preference  for  the 
former,  exist  so  far  as  the  tribe  is  concerned  ; but  with 
regard  to  the  social  unit  of  the  tribe,  the  community  that 
shares  a common  house  of  assembly,  the  rule  of  exogamy 
1 Cf.  im  Thurn,  p.  185. 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS  67 

is  very  strictly  enforced.  The  reason  for  this  is  that  all 
within  a household  are  held  to  be  kin.  The  one  exception 
for  this  law  among  the  tribes  is  also  the  one  exception  to 
their  patrilocal  customs.  In  the  possible  instance  of  a 
chief  having  a daughter  but  no  sons  to  succeed  him,  the 
daughter  may  marry  a man  of  the  same  household,  who 
would  probably  be  an  adopted  son.  Any  other  exception 
would  be  most  unusual,  and  could  only  be  attempted  with 
the  permission  of  the  tribe  after  thorough  consideration  of 
the  case  in  tribal  council.  Otherwise  any  son  and  any 
daughter  of  a household,  no  matter  though  they  be  of 
different  parentage,  are  barred  from  marriage  by  the  blood- 
tie  ; yet  what  we  should  look  upon  as  an  equally  close 
relationship  on  the  spindle  side  is  regarded  by  the  Indians 
as  no  such  thing,  only  the  most  intimate  relations  of  the 
mother  ever  being  so  much  as  counted  kin.1  A man  may 
marry  into  the  household  from  which  his  mother  came 
without  transgressing  any  recognised  law,  because  the 
mother,  having  left  her  original  household  to  join  that  of 
her  husband,  has  become  one  of  his  household  on  marriage, 
and  has  ceased  to  belong  to  her  own.  In  all  probability 
she  will  have  had  little  or  no  intercourse  with  it.  Marriage 
between  two  individuals  does  not  establish  any  admitted 
affinity  between  their  respective  households.  It  follows 
that  the  children  of  two  sisters  might  possibly  intermarry, 
but  the  children  of  two  brothers  never  could. 

Woman’s  lot  among  all  the  tribes  of  the  Amazon  is 
commonly  regarded  as  a hard  one.  It  is  true  that  the 
steady  grind  of  the  day’s  work  falls  to  her  share.  Men 
work  intermittently,  but  the  work  that  falls  to  the  women 
to  do  is  incessant.  In  addition  to  the  natural  functions  of 
the  mother  and  the  housekeeper,  the  duties  of  an  Indian 
wife  include  the  bulk  of  all  agricultural  labour.  The 
husband’s  energies  cease  when  he  has  cleared  and  broken 
up  a patch  of  land,  reclaimed  a field  from  the  surrounding 
forest,  an  arduous  task  that  needs  more  physical  strength 
than  women  possess.  The  ground  once  freed  of  trees  and 

1 This  is  exactly  the  reverse  of  the  matrilocal  customs  related  by  Sir 
Everard  im  Thurn. 


68 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


undergrowth,  and  roughly  dug,  the  husband  considers  that 
his  share  in  the  toil  is  at  an  end,  and  he  will  he  in  his 
hammock,  eat,  and  sleep,  while  his  wife,  the  baby  slung 
behind  her,  tills  the  field  and  harvests  the  crops.  It  is  for 
her  to  plant  the  slips  and  in  due  season  dig  the  manioc. 
She  must  attend  to  the  growing  plant,  and  eventually 
prepare  the  roots  for  use.  But  it  would  be  wrong  to  infer 
that  the  Indian  husband  is  a lazy  slave-driver.  If  his  work 
is  occasional  it  must  be  confessed  that  he  does  undertake 
all  the  heaviest  labour.  Each  sex  has  its  own  pursuits. 
The  man  is  the  hunter  and  the  warrior,  the  woman  is  help- 
mate, agriculturalist,  and  staple  food-provider.  The  differ- 
entiation of  work  is  very  clear,  bounded  by  the  law  of  Pia 
— it  is  our  custom,  which  is  like  unto  that  of  the  Medes  and 
Persians.  A man  will  on  no  account  plant  manioc,  but  he 
has  a reason  for  this  rule  : he  says  that  women,  being  able 
to  produce  children,  can  produce  manioc  ; production  is  her 
province,  not  his. 

The  subjection  of  wives,  if  subjection  it  can  be  called, 
is  due  to  economic  conditions.  The  woman  holds  a recog- 
nised, if  subordinate,  position.  She  rarely  quarrels  with  her 
husband,  though  she  is  certainly  not  afraid  of  contradicting 
him  when  necessary  ; in  fact  I have  met  such  anomalies  as 
hen-pecked  husbands. 

There  are,  as  will  be  seen  in  detail  subsequently,  certain 
definite  restrictions  imposed  upon  the  women  of  the  tribes, 
food  they  may  not  eat,  ceremonials  they  may  not  share, 
sacred  objects  they  may  not  even  see.  Coca  and  tobacco 
they  may  neither  prepare  not  partake  of,  a law  as  rigid  as 
that  w’hich  debars  men  from  planting  or  preparing  manioc. 
In  some  tribes  women  are  not  permitted  to  see  or  be  seen 
by  strangers,  but,  as  a rule,  the  married  women  are  re- 
markably free  in  this  matter,  though  young  girls  are  more 
restricted. 

Taken  as  a whole,  women  are  well  treated  among  all  the 
tribes.  A woman  is  so  far  respected  that  her  husband  will 
consult  her,  but  there  is  nothing  approaching  to  chivalry7  on 
the  part  of  the  man.  The  Indian  does  not  idealise.  He 
weaves  no  romantic  dreams  about  the  Sex,  but  looks  upon 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS  69 

a woman  from  the  most  material  standpoint,  pays  her  no 
small  attentions,  never  thinks  of  saving  her  trouble  or 
any  exertion,  and  in  no  way  attempts  to  lighten  her  lot 
in  life.  Yet  everywhere,  owing  to  conditions  of  existence, 
women’s  influence  is  very  great.  The  tribal  reputation  of 
a man  rests  largely  in  the  hands  of  his  wife  ; she  can  so 
easily  leave  him  if  badly  treated,  and  once  the  forest  is 
gained  she  is  lost  to  him,  and  may  without  difficulty  secure 
the  protection  of  another  tribe,  or,  should  public  opinion  be 
strong  enough  to  drive  the  guilty  husband  away,  of  another 
man  in  his  household.  The  onus  of  her  disappearance  will 
lie  heavy  upon  the  husband  who  has  forced  her  to  such — 
in  Indian  opinion — extraordinary  action.  But  cruelty  on 
the  part  of  a husband  is  rare,  as  rare  as  infidelity  on  the  part 
of  a wife.  A man  who  ventured  to  ill-treat  his  wife  would 
soon  be  the  scorn  of  the  tribe,  for  the  other  women  would 
promptly  make  a song  about  him,  and  the  ridicule  to  which 
he  was  exposed  would  be  an  effectual  deterrent  from 
further  ill-doing  in  a country  where  adverse  public  opinion 
is  more  efficient  than  any  police  force  in  the  prevention  of 
recognised  wrong. 

The  right  of  women  to  personal  possession  appears  to 
be  allowed.  At  death  her  domestic  implements  are  buried 
with  her,  and  I have  often  wanted  to  buy  some  article  of 
adornment  from  a woman,  but  when  I asked  the  husband 
what  he  would  like  in  exchange,  have  invariably  been 
referred  back  again  to  his  wife,  and  had  to  conduct  the 
barter  with  her.  Also,  though  the  children  belong  absol- 
utely to  the  father,  it  would  be  the  mother  and  not  the 
father  who  would  negotiate  the  exchange  of  any  ornament 
worn  by  a child. 

Finally  we  come  to  the  last  and  lowest  section  of  a tribe, 
the  slaves.  Slavery  among  the  Indians  themselves  is  little 
more  than  a name,  for  a slave  belongs  to  the  chief,  and 
soon  becomes  identified  with  his  family.  Though  slaves 
have  frequently  a chance  to  run  away  they  seldom  do  so, 
for  they  are  usually  treated  with  kindness,  and  probably  are 
nearly  as  well  off  in  the  house  of  their  victors  as  in  their 
own.  Captives  of  both  sexes  under  the  age  of  seven  years, 


7o 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


or  thereabouts,  are  kept  as  slaves  by  the  conquering 
tribe ; above  that  age  they  are  destroyed,  as  they  possess 
intelligence  enough  presumably  to  betray  their  new  tribe 
to  their  old  one.  When  a slave  reaches  man’s  estate  he  is 
permitted  to  identify  himself  with  the  warriors  as  any 
other  boy  would  be  ; and  thereafter  is  looked  upon  as  free  ; 
but  the  chief  would  consider  that  he  had  a lien  of  sorts  on 
such  a man,  and  this  would  be  commuted  by  payment  of 
perhaps  half  his  shooting  bag,  probably  until  the  time 
that  he  married.  If  the  chief  dies,  the  slaves  become  the 
property  of  the  new  chief,  but  a man,  if  already  a warrior, 
would  no  longer  feel  himself  bound  to  a new  chief,  except 
in  so  far  as  tribal  discipline  might  enforce  on  all  the 
warriors.  A woman  slave  may  be  purchased  from  the 
chief  by  the  gift  of  some  small  present  to  his  wife.  After 
this  the  girl  is  free. 

Maku  slaves  have  little  huts  of  their  own  in  the  forest, 
where  they  live  apart,  and  are  never  in  any  way  familiar 
with  their  masters.  They  are  permitted  to  keep  their  own 
women.  These  slaves  are  generally  despised.  They  act 
the  part  of  the  “ proverbial  cat,”  and  are  held  to  blame 
when  anything  goes  wrong.  A medicine-man  may  accuse  a 
Maku  if  a death  takes  place,  or  any  crime  is  committed,  and 
the  wretched  slave  is  then  destroyed  unhesitatingly.  There 
are  no  Maku  south  of  the  Japura. 


PLATE  VIII. 


1.  GROUP  OF  WITOTO 

2.  GROUP  OF  SOME  OF  MY  CARRIERS 


CHAPTEjR  V 

Dress  and  ornament — Geographical  and  tribal  differentiations — Festal 
attire — Feather  ornaments — Hair-dressing — Combs — Dance  girdles — 
Beads — N ecklaces — Bracelets — Leg  rattles — Ligatures — Ear-rings — 
Use  of  labret — Nose  pins — Scarification — Tattoo — Tribal  marks — 
Painting. 


J udged  by  some  of  the  pictures  in  books  purporting  to  give 
accounts  of  the  South  American  Indians,  the  photograph 
adjoining  (Plate  VIII.)  would  represent  an  Indian  chieftain 
decked  in  his  best  to  welcome  the  newly-arrived  traveller, 
instead  of  what  it  is — merely  a group  of  my  escort  and 
carriers  tricked  out  in  the  rag,  tag,  and  bobtail  array  they 
deemed  due  to  my  dignity  and  their  own.  Far  different  is 
the  actual  scene  when  the  Indian  homestead  is  approached 
and  one  meets  these  sons  of  the  forest — be  they  Boro,  Witoto, 
or  others — in  their  native  haunts  and  natural  garb,  unaffected 
by  “ civilised  ” influences.  From  the  shadow  of  the  interior 
will  stalk  the  chief,  accompanied  by  his  escort  of  warriors, 
all  naked,  but  for  a strip  of  bark  - cloth  about  the  loins. 
Round  the  neck  of  the  chief  is  a necklace  of  jaguar  teeth,  in 
his  hand  a broadsword  of  iron-wood  ; the  men  with  him  are 
destitute  of  feathers  or  ornaments,  but  each  holds  poised  in 
his  left  hand  a bunch  of  throwing  javelins. 

It  is  regrettable  that  returning  explorers  1 have  deemed  it 
a necessary  concession  to  unscientific  prejudice  to  illustrate 
the  natives  of  the  Amazons  in  clothing  or  drapery  that  is 
wholly  foreign  to  their  custom  and  to  their  thought.  The 
hypocrisy  was  more  common  before  the  uncompromising 
days  of  photography,  but  the  effect  of  the  old  woodcuts  and 
engravings  is  to  give  an  entirely  wrong  impression  of  the 


1 Or  their  artists  and  publishers. 
7i 


72 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


appearance  of  the  Indian  in  his  own  haunts.  Even  so 
accurate  an  observer  as  Crevaux  discounts  much  of  the  value 
of  his  illustration  by  clothing  his  figures  in  a manner  that 
could  only  be  possible  within  the  Rubber  Belt,  or  in  the 
case  of  his  personal  servants.  Since  the  introduction  of 
photography,  non-existent  clothing  has  ceased  to  appear  in 
pictures  of  the  Amazonian  tribes,  but  still  much  miscon- 
struction has  been  occasioned  by  grouping  sets  of  natives 
in  such  a fashion  as  to  make  it  appear  that  they  are  ashamed 
of  their  nakedness.  As  a fact,  they  are  totally  unaware  of 
it.  Therefore  it  cannot  be  too  strongly  emphasised  that 
the  Indians  of  these  tropical  regions  are  no  more  alive  to 
any  idea  of  indecency  in  their  lack  of  apparel  than  are  the 
people  of  England  conscious  of  immodesty  in  their  con- 
ventional attire  at  a Lord  Mayor’s  banquet  or  a function 
of  the  Court.  It  is  as  impossible  to  comprehend  the  true 
psychology  of  the  Amazonian  from  the  pedestal  of  the 
prude  as  from  the  pulpit  of  the  priest.  Difficult  as  it  may 
be  for  either  to  understand,  it  is  none  the  less  true  that  to 
some  peoples  dress  appears  to  be  more  indelicate  than  nudity.1 
He  who  would  see  truly  must  divest  the  mind  of  inherited 
and  instilled  prejudices  in  favour  of  much  that  to  the 
natives  has  no  meaning  or  reason  for  existence.  Moreover, 
he  might  do  well  to  remember  that  clothes  are  not  always 
worn  from  motives  of  decency.  Then  he  will  understand 
that  the  naked  Indian  in  his  forest  is  no  more  unchaste  than 
is  the  statue  of  a Greek  god  in  the  galleries  of  the  British 
Museum. 

It  may  be  laid  down  as  a generalisation  for  the  regions 
under  investigation  that  the  women  are  wiiolly  destitute  of 
clothing,  and  the  men  wear  little  or  nothing  but  what  the 
Witoto  call  a moh-hen,  that  is,  a strip  of  beaten  bark-cloth 
carried  from  front  to  rear  between  the  legs  and  tucked  in  at 
either  end  over  a string  or  strap  of  bark-cloth  bound  about 
the  waist.  As  the  temperature  varies  hardly  at  all  with 
the  season  of  the  year,  there  is  no  periodical  deviation  from 

1 " The  natives  are  ashamed,  as  they  say,  to  be  clothed  ” (Humboldt, 
T ravels,  iii.  230  ; cf.  also  Wallace,  p.  357).  Clothes,  in  fact,  are  often  donned 
by  savages  at  periods  of  license  only.  See  Westermarck,  History  of  Human 
Marriage,  chap.  ix. 


PLATE  IX. 


MEDICINE  MAN  AND  HIS  WIFE  (ANDOKE 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


73 


this  rule.  Farther  south  the  tribes  make  blankets,  but 
here,  though  they  were  interested  in  mine,  they  have  nothing 
of  that  description,  and  the  native  sleeps  at  night  without 
covering,  exactly  as  he,  or  she,  walks  abroad  throughout 
the  day. 

There  is  practically  no  scope  for  originality,  no  choice  of 
costume.  Even  the  chief  is  undistinguished  from  his  tribes- 
men by  the  character  of  his  attire,  although  as  a rule  he 
wears  a necklace  of  tiger  teeth,  which  is  the  outward  evidence 
of  his  rank.  His  wife  does  not  wear  any  special  ornaments, 
but  of  necessity  she  possesses  the  greater  number.  The  only 
member  of  the  tribe  who  varies  from  his  fellows  is  the 
medicine-man,  and  he  will  adopt  any  idea  that  appeals  to 
him  as  an  addition  to  the  eccentricity  of  his  appearance. 
One  Andoke  medicine-man,  whom  I photographed,  was 
wearing  a turban  of  bark-cloth  dyed  a brilliant  scarlet ; but 
his  taste  in  this  particular  was  purely  individual,  and  de- 
noted neither  professional  nor  tribal  distinction.  The  large 
bag  shown  in  the  adjoining  illustration  should  be  noted,  for 
it  was  greatly  admired  by  the  tribe.  It  appeared  to  be  made 
in  the  same  way  as  the  ligatures,  with  threads  of  red  and 
undyed  palm  - fibre.  It  was  not  manufactured  by  the 
Andoke,  but  had  been  obtained  by  barter ; however,  it 
was  of  indigenous  make,  and  probably  came  from  the  north 
of  the  Japura.  Among  the  Orahone  the  medicine-men 
fashion  for  themselves  vestments  of  tapir  hide,  the  only 
instance  in  these  parts  of  skins  being  utilised  for  clothing 
that  came  to  my  knowledge. 

The  Amazonian  boy  is  first  provided  with  a breech-cloth 
when  he  is  five  years  old.  His  earliest  lesson  is  in  its  manu- 
facture, for  every  Indian  fashions  his  own  clothing,  is  his 
own  tailor  and  cloth  manufacturer.  He  goes  to  the  bush 
and  selects  a tree,1  on  which  he  marks  a space  6 feet  long 
by  9 inches  in  width,  and  strips  from  it  both  the  outer 

1 There  are  several  trees  in  these  forests  that  supply  the  needed  fibrous 
bark,  im  Thurn  suggests  that  the  bark  used  is  that  of  the  Lecythis  ollaria, 
but  Spruce  states  that  tauari  is  made  from  the  bark  of  certain  species  of 
Tecoma  of  the  Bignoniaceae  order,  and  tururi,  a thinner  bark-cloth,  from 
various  figs  and  Artocarps.  Naturally  natives  use  the  tree  that  is  handiest 
when  required  (cf.  im  Thurn,  pp.  194,  291  ; Spruce,  i.  27). 


74 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


and  inner  barks.  He  separates  the  two  layers,  cuts  the 
strip  of  inner  bark  in  two,  and  carries  the  pieces  to  the  river, 
where  the  material  is  thoroughly  soaked.  Afterwards  this 
is  beaten  with  a small  wooden  mallet  until  it  forms  a yard 
length  of  bark-cloth  9 inches  in  width.  Nothing  further 
is  needed,  for  this  makes  the  breech-cloth,  and  it  is  sufficient 
to  pass  between  the  legs  and  tuck  securely  over  the  waist- 
band in  front  and  behind.  There  is  no  variation  from  the 
type  or  method  of  manufacture,1  and  this  simplest  form  of 
clothing  is  common  to  all  tribes  inhabiting  the  wide  stretch 
of  country  between  the  rivers  Issa  and  Japura. 

The  breech-cloth  is  never  discarded  by  the  male  Indian, 
nor,  in  the  sight  of  man  or  woman,  would  he  ever  remove  it. 
When  bathing  he  wades  into  a sufficient  depth  before  he 
interferes  with  its  adjustment.  Even  when  a man  dies  his 
breech-cloth  is  buried  with  him. 

South  and  west  of  the  Issa,  in  the  country  of  the  Orahone, 
the  men  wear,  like  other  Napo  tribes,  long  shirts  of  bark- 
fibre,  on  which  are  traced  circular  designs  painted  in  red, 
while  north  of  the  Japura  the  Karahone  wear  stiff  stays 
of  bark,  like  strait -waistcoats,  above  their  breech -cloths. 
These  garments  are  tightly  plaited  on  to  the  body,  and  end 
in  a plaited  fringe.  They  must  be  cut  off  to  permit  of 
removal.  The  same  uncomfortable  costume  extends  north- 
ward from  the  Karahone  country  into  that  of  the  Umaua 
and  the  tribes  of  the  Apaporis  district. 

The  Menimehe  who,  it  will  be  remembered,  occupy  the 
left  bank  of  the  J apura  to  the  south  and  east  of  the  Karahone, 
wear  a loin-cloth  with  an  apron,  which  extends  to  the  knees, 
of  loose  palm-fibre  suspended  over  it.  This  apron  is  18 
inches  long  and  6 inches  in  width,  and  is  taken  off  in  the 
house.  It  is  worn  ceremonially,  and  always  donned  for  war 
and  for  dances.  The  men  of  the  Opaina,  who  succeed  the 
Menimehe  on  the  east  between  the  Miriti  and  Apaporis 

1 Dr.  de  Lacerda  in  his  journal  for  July  22,  1798,  describes  just  such  a 
manufacture  of  bark-cloth  carried  on  by  the  Muizas,  who  traded  this  with 
their  neighbours  the  Maraves.  See  Land  of  Carembe,  R.G.S.,  1873,  p.  71. 
Loin-cloths  made  from  the  bark  of  the  Artocarps  are  also  found  among 
the  Semang  of  Kedah  and  other  wild  tribes  of  the  Malay  Peninsula.  See 
Skeat  and  Blagden,  i.  143-4,  157,  376,  etc. 


PLATE  X 


BORO  TRIBESMEN 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS  75 

Rivers,  wear  aprons  after  the  same  fashion  as  their  neighbours. 
The  women  wear  nothing. 

The  Makuna,  who  dwell  to  the  north  of  the  Kuretu  on  the 
other  side  of  the  Apaporis,  affect  a small  belt  of  beaten  bark, 
from  which  depends  in  front  a long  apron  of  bast.  The 
Kuretu  group,  who  inhabit  both  sides  of  the  Japura  to  the 
east  of  the  Menimehe,  improve  upon  the  habit  of  their 
neighbours.  Over  the  loin-cloth  the  men  wear  a bast  kilt, 
or  petticoat,  which  dangles  as  low  as  the  ankles.  When 
walking,  this  garment  is  tucked  up  between  the  legs,  some- 
thing after  the  manner  of  a Malay  sarang.  The  loin-cloth 
is  retained  below. 

All  the  tribes  on  the  right  or  south  bank  of  the  Japura 
follow  the  fashion  of  the  Boro  ; the  men  wear  only  breech- 
cloths,  the  women  go  absolutely  naked. 

Thus  it  will  be  observed  that  the  fashion  of  dress  falls 
into  a definite  geographical  progression,1  and  there  is  no 
sudden  change  in  passing  from  one  neighbouring  tribe  to 
another,  although  the  tribal  distinctions  are  very  marked. 

The  natives  wear  no  head-covering  as  a protection.  In 
a heavy  rain  an  Indian  on  the  trail  will  tear  down  a palm- 
leaf  and  carry  it  over  his  head  as  we  should  an  umbrella, 
and  he  will  adopt  the  same  rough-and-ready  though  effective 
means  to  shield  himself  from  the  sun. 

No  gloves  are  worn  nor  coverings  for  the  feet.  Boots  of 
any  sort,  in  fact,  would  be  impossible  wear  ; even  Europeans 
dispense  with  them.  Still,  it  is  not  possible  for  the  white 
man  to  go  through  the  forest  bare-footed.  Personally, 
I used  carpet  slippers,  which  were  washed  every  evening 
after  the  day’s  trek,  and  dried  during  the  night.2 

If  for  ordinary  everyday  life  the  attire  of  the  Indian  is 
of  the  slightest,  on  the  occasion  of  a festival  or  a dance  the 
most  elaborate  sartorial  preparations  have  to  be  made. 
Wallace  has  enumerated  no  less  than  “ twenty  distinct 
articles  forming  the  feather  head-dress,”  which  is  worn  by 

1 A similar  geographical  progression  has  been  noted  among  the  women  of 
British  New  Guinea.  See  Williamson,  The  Mafulu,  p.  28. 

2 Sandals  known  as  alparagatas,  with  soles  of  plaited  aloe-fibre,  are 
usually  worn  by  travellers  in  the  Amazons.  These  can  be  cleaned  and 
washed  in  the  same  way.  See  also  Simson,  p.  83. 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


76 

the  Menimehe  and  the  Nonuya,  as  well  as  by  the  Uaupes 
Indians  of  whom  he  wrote.1  Then  there  are  the  feather  arm- 
lets — ruffles  of  bright-tinted  plumage  worn  on  the  arm, — 2 
wooden  combs  decorated  with  tufts  of  feathers,  and  curassow 
down  for  the  women,  anklets  and  strings  of  rattles  hung 
round  the  legs,  aprons  of  painted  bark  or  belts  of  beads, 
ear-rings,  and  necklaces,  and,  supreme  vanity,  there  are  the 
elaborately-painted  designs  on  the  skin  that  are  to  the  Indian 
belle  what  the  latest  Paris  “ creation  ” is  to  her  civilised 
sister. 

According  to  Sir  Everard  im  Thum  every  tribe  makes 
its  own  feather  head-dress  after  a special  colour  scheme.3 
I did  not  find  this  to  be  the  case  with  the  Issa- J apura  tribes. 
Instead  of  making  them  according  to  rule,  rather  do  they 
make  them  according  to  luck.  Whatever  they  can  get  in 
the  way  of  gay  plumage,  feathers  of  the  parrot,  the  macaw, 
or  the  toucan,  especially  the  macaw,  because  its  feathers 
are  the  longest,  be  the  colour  what  it  may,  is  employed 
indiscriminately.  The  effects  are  very  brilliant,  but  there 
is  nothing  made  in  these  districts  of  such  elaborate  descrip- 
tion as  the  gorgeous  feather-cloaks  manufactured  by  the 
Napo  Indians,  which  are  veritable  works  of  art.  The  Issa- 
Japura  tribes  content  themselves  with  a coronet  of  the 
gayest  breast-feathers,  plumed  .with  tufts  of  the  long  feathers 
from  the  tail,  all  tied  together  with  fibre  thread.4  The  Boro 
men  on  festive  occasions  also  stick  these  long  macaw  feathers 
into  their  arm-ligatures.  The  chief’s  head-dress  is  more 
lavish  than  those  of  his  warriors.  The  only  boy  I ever  saw 
wearing  one  was  the  young  son  of  a chief.  Women  do  not 
wear  the  feather  head-dress,  but  they  attach  the  white  down 
of  the  curassow  duck  by  means  of  some  resinous  substance — 
such  as  rubber  latex,  or  the  milky  secretion  of  the  cow-tree 
— for  decorative  purposes  round  their  legs,  between  the 


1 Wallace,  p.  351. 

1 Feather  ruffs  are  worn  by  Napo  Indians,  but  not  by  these  tribes. 

3 im  Thurn,  p.  305. 

4 One  feather  head-dress  in  my  possession  is  made  with  rough  cotton 
yarn,  obtained  presumably  by  barter,  for  none  of  these  tribes  make  cotton 
yarn  themselves,  and  it  is  very  rarely  to  be  found  among  them.  The 
feathers  are  bound  into  the  hank  with  very  fine  fibre. 


PLATE  XI. 


VVITOTO  FEATHER  HEAD-DRESSES, 

The  outer  one  js  made  on  dark  fibre,  the  inner  on  cotton  yarn,  which  would  appear 
to  have  been  obtained  extra-tribally. 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


77 


ligatures.  The  result  of  this  is  to  make  the  calves  look 
enormous.  The  men  do  not  decorate  with  down.  The 
Indians  are  invariably  most  careful  of  their  feather  orna- 
ments. At  the  end  of  a dance  an  old  man,  so  Koch-Griinberg 
noted,  will  come  round  and  knock  the  dust  off  the  feathers 
with  a long  cane.  I have  myself  observed  Indians,  when 
overheated  by  their  violent  exertions  at  a dance,  take  off 
their  feather  ornaments  to  preserve  them  from  sweat.  They 
will  never  part  with  them,  as  they  are  communal,  not  per- 
sonal, possessions,  and  I found  they  objected  extremely  to 
any  attempt  I made  to  photograph  them  when  wearing  their 
dancing  feathers. 

Combs  for  festive  occasions  are  made  of  palm  wood, 
with  spines  of  the  Bacdba  palm  1 for  teeth,  fixed  in  with 
pitch,  and  are  ornamented  with  feathers.  These  tribes  do 
not  bind  up  their  hair  with  coroa  string  as  do  some  of  the 
Uaupes  Indians.2  As  may  be  judged  from  the  illustrations, 
hair-dressing  fashions  are  not  very  varied.  They  range  for 
the  men  from  quite  short,  as  among  the  Muenane,  to  the  long 
hair  fancied  by  some  of  the  Boro.  The  majority  wear  their 
hair  slightly  shorter  than  the  women’s,  as  a rule  divided 
down  the  middle,  but  occasionally  cut  straight  across  the 
forehead  in  a shock  fringe,  reminiscent  of  the  coster’s.  The 
only  variation  among  the  women  is  a band,  a strip  of  beaten 
bark  - cloth,  occasionally  seen  among  the  Resigero  (see 
Plate  XII.).3  The  Makuna  wear  their  hair  in  pigtails. 
The  Karahone  women  keep  their  hair  cropped  short.  In 
the  Boro  comb  of  the  illustration  the  black  spines  are  set 
between  two  pieces  of  cane,  bound  over  with  fibre,  and 
finished  with  basket-work  of  narrow  cane  strips,  light  and 
dark,  plaited  into  a regular  pattern.  The  spines  are  3! 
inches  long,  and  project  to  within  a quarter  of  an  inch  of 
the  ends  for  about  if  inch  on  either  side  of  the  basket-work 
back.  This  is  3I  inches  long  and  about  half  an  inch  thick. 
The  spines  are  neatly  pointed  at  either  end,  and  the  whole 

1 Oenocarpus  distichus. 

2 Wallace,  p.  351. 

3 According  to  Koch-Grunberg  the  Yahabana  and  other  Kuretu- 
speaking  tribes  part  the  hair  in  the  middle  and  plait  it  with  bast.  After 
bathing,  the  hair  is  dried,  combed,  and  arranged  with  a bandage. 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


78 

resembles  very  nearly — but  for  the  uncommon  effect  of  the 
basket-work — a European  comb  of  rather  large  and  coarse 
make. 

The  Andoke  comb  is  also  made  with  two  pieces  of  cane, 
slightly  decorated  with  chevron  incisions.  It  is  a quarter 
of  an  inch  shorter  than  the  Boro  comb,  and  has  spines  on 
one  side  only.  These  are  set  in  pitchy  matter  between  the 
cane,  and  project  seven -eighths  of  an  inch.  From  the 
hardened  centre  at  one  end  depends  a short  tuft  of  fibre 
string,  to  which  feathers  may  be  attached,  and  a longer 
string  from  the  other  end  is  fastened  to  half  a nutshell  cut 


8 


Fig.  7. 

as  a cup,  very  similar  to  the  tobacco  pot,  and  made  from  the 
same  kind  of  nut.  This  is  2|  inches  long  by  i|  deep  in  the 
centre,  and  if  across.  It  is  black  and  highly  polished. 
This  small  cup  is  used  to  hold  the  latex  employed  for 
depilatory  purposes. 

The  Witoto  comb  is  of  much  rougher  construction,  with 
a thicker  back.  As  with  the  Boro,  the  spines  are  set  right 
through,  but  instead  of  a section  of  cane,  two  sticks,  round 
bits  of  bamboo  or  reed  are  employed,  and  the  whole 
coated  with  pitch  and  tied  with  fibre  string.  The  length 
of  the  spines  is  a quarter  of  an  inch  longer  than  in  the  Boro 
comb,  but  owing  to  the  more  clumsy  back  they  project  a 
quarter  of  an  inch  less. 

Having  laid  down  the  rough  generalisation  that  all  the 


PLATE  XII. 


GROUPS  OF  RESIGERO  WOMEN 


PLATE  XIV. 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


79 


women  of  these  tribes  wear  nothing,  one  has  to  begin  the 
list  of  various  exceptions  that  go  to  prove  this  rule.  It  is 
true  that  they  are  nude  to  the  extent  of  wearing  no  garment 
of  any  description,  but  though  naked  they  do  not  appear  to 
be  so  ; and  it  is  a qualified  nakedness  after  all,  qualified  with 
a variety  of  ornament,  and,  above  all,  of  paint. 

The  Indian  woman’s  ideas  on  the  subject  of  clothing 
are  well  illustrated  by  the  behaviour  of  those  women  who 
were  of  my  own  party.  I gave  them  djibbehs,  but,  unless 
I happened  to  be  present  and  they  feared  my  anger,  they 
never  would  wear  them.  For  this  attitude  they  advanced 
five  excellent  reasons.  If  the  sun  shone  the  bright  light 
would  damage  the  garment  by  causing  the  colour  to  fade.1 
If  it  rained  the  djibbeh  would  get  wet.  If  they  were  out  in 
the  bush  the  thorns  caught  and  tore  the  material.  If  they 
were  dancing  the  useless  encumbrance  of  a dress  would  hide 
all  their  carefully-executed  adornments  of  paint.  If  they 
were  in  the  house  a covering  of  any  sort  would  be  merely 
ridiculous.  There  were  obviously,  then,  few  or  no  oppor- 
tunities left  to  wear  their  new,  but  cumbersome  and  useless, 
finery.  Not  that  the  Indian  man  or  woman  has  no  desire 
for  finery,  quite  the  contrary,  their  ornaments  are  more 
important  than  their  dress,  in  fact  their  ornaments  are  their 
dress. 

The  women  of  the  Issa- Japura  tribes  wear  a broad  girdle 
for  a dance.2  It  is  worn  on  no  other  occasions,  and  removed 
immediately  the  dance  is  at  an  end.  These  dancing  girdles 
are  made  by  the  women  of  seeds  or  Brummagem  beads  if 
such  can  be  had.  These  are  strung  in  about  two-foot 
lengths,  and  so  arranged  that  when  two  or  three  dozen 
strings  are  fastened  into  a broad  flat  band  the  varying 
colours  make  a bold  and  definite  design.  Like  all  these 
Indian  ornaments,  they  evince  a fine  artistic  sense  of  colour- 
ing and  pattern.  Beads  are  passed  inwards  from  the  Rubber 
Belt  from  tribe  to  tribe.  On  account  of  the  isolation  of 

1 Red  was  the  favourite  colour  for  a djibbeh.  White  ones  were  not 
much  liked. 

2 This  corresponds  with  the  bead  tanga  described  by  Wallace,  but  the 
Uaupes’  apron  is  “ only  about  six  inches  square,”  and  these  girdles  or  gar- 
lands are  two  feet  long  or  more  (Wallace,  p.  343). 


8o 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


these  peoples,  they  cannot  aspire  to  have  fashions  direct 
from  Birmingham,  and  novel  patterns  hardly  seem  to  occur 
to  them.  Designs  must  be  symmetrical,  and  they  are  quite 
content  to  copy  the  old-established  ones.  The  colours  vary, 
but  dark  beads  are  the  most  sought  after,  dark  blue  being 
more  favoured  than  red.  Black  and  white  ones  are  the 
most  prized,  but  red  and  white  is  the  combination  usually 
seen.  Any  woman  may  possess  a girdle,  and  it  is  an  in- 
dividual, not  a tribal,  possession,  the  reverse  of  the  custom 
as  regards  the  men’s  feather  head-dresses.  These  girdles 
are  exceedingly  handsome  and  wonderfully  well  constructed. 

Beads  are  especially  treasured  by  the  Karahone  women, 
and  they  will  wear  chain  upon  chain,  amounting  in  the  aggre- 
gate to  a considerable  weight.  The  number  worn  by  a 
Boro  woman  may  be  judged  from  the  illustration  (p.  154), 
where  the  white  appendage  round  the  woman’s  neck  is 
made  simply  by  stringing  a few  pounds  of  white  beads 
together.  Both  men  and  women  wear  necklaces.  Besides 
those  made  only  of  beads,  they  are  made  of  tiger — that  is 
to  say  jaguar — teeth,  and  pig,  tapir,  marmoset,  and  cat 
provide  ivories  that  may  be  strung  on  curana  thread,  besides 
the  necklace  of  accomplished  vengeance,  the  string  of  human 
teeth.  With  the  exception  of  the  latter,  the  teeth  are  bored 
through  the  fang,  and  threaded  at  regular  intervals,  inter- 
spersed with  beads,  bone,  or  Brummagem,  tiny  discs  of  bone 
or  shell,  or  brightly-coloured  seeds.  The  pendants  on  the 
necklaces  seen  in  the  illustrations  are  mostly  coins,  de- 
preciated Chilian  dollars  as  a rule.1  Those  shown  in  the 
various  photographs  were  either  given  to  the  wearers  by 
me  or  had  filtered  through  from  the  Rubber  Belt ; a few 
may  have  reached  these  primitive  folk  through  the  medium 
of  intertribal  barter.  In  any  case,  they  are  always  most 
rare  and  cherished  possessions.  The  pendants  generally 
worn  are  thin,  flat,  triangular  pieces  of  beaten  metal,  obtained 
either  from  coins  or  old  brass  cartridge  cases.  The  rarity  of 
metal  in  these  parts  is  marked  by  the  small  quantity  allowed 
for  any  one  ornament,  which  is  invariably  of  extreme  thin- 
ness, and  hardly  more  than  a featherweight.  They  are  not 

1 Value,  I believe,  about  ninepence  exchange  or  less. 


PLATE  XIII 


CENTRE  OF  DANCING  GROUP— MUENANE 
Inset. — Chief’s  son  wearing  feather  head-dress 


PLATE  XV. 


DUKAIYA  (OKAINA)  BEAD  DANCING-GIRDLE 


CONDOR  CLAWS,  USED  BY  ANDOKE  MEDICINE  MAN  OF  THE 
UPPER  JAPURA  RIVER 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


81 


grooved,  incised,  or  beaten  into  any  design,  but  have  merely 
a smoothed  surface.  The  edge  is  rounded,  not  sharp. 
They  are  hung  by  a small  beaded  fibre  string  to  the  necklet 
or  more  generally  to  the  ear-plug. 

The  necklaces  are  matters  of  importance,  for  they  dis- 
close the  status  of  the  wearers.  The  skill  of  a warrior  as 
a hunter,  his  bravery  in  war,  is  proved  by  the  character 
of  the  teeth  that  circle  his  neck  : the  more  successful  the 
hunter  the  finer  the  teeth  he  wears,  the  more  numerous  the 
adornments  of  his  family.  Most  to  be  envied  in  Indian 
opinion  is  a string  of  human  teeth,  in  that  it  is  the  witness 
of  revenge  ; the  teeth  are  from  the  head  of  an  enemy,  for  a 
man  wears  only  the  teeth  of  foes  or  game  that  he  himself 
has  killed,  and  at  his  death  they  will  be  buried  with  him, 
unless  he  fall  at  the  hands  of  a foe,  and  his  string  of  teeth  go 
to  swell  the  spoils  of  the  victor.  Human  teeth  are  never 
bored,  they  are  carefully  bound  into  the  necklace  with  fine 
fibre  string.  The  very  insignificance  of  the  small,  worn, 
discoloured  teeth  is  in  itself  a sinister  characteristic,  pre- 
supposes an  object  other  than  ornamental,  adds  a horrible 
touch  to  the  bizarre  effect  of  all  this  barbaric  bravery. 

Necklaces  of  human  teeth  are  frequently  finished,  if  the 
teeth  are  not  sufficient  in  number  for  the  required  length, 
with  rounded  bits  of  bone.  Other  teeth  are  spaced  out 
with  discs,  some  made  of  bone,  others  of  shell  obtained  from 
river  mussels,  or  even  with  knots  in  the  fibre  thread.  The 
Boro  necklace  of  human  teeth  in  the  accompanying  illustra- 
tion is  made  on  cotton  twist,  an  imported  article  very  seldom 
found  among  these  tribes,1  though  one  of  the  Okaina  beaded 
garlands  figured  on  Plate  XIV.  is  also  made  on  cotton  string, 
not  palm  - fibre  as  is  customary.  The  handsome  jaguar 
tooth  necklace  loses  some  of  its  artistic  values  in  a black- 
and-white  reproduction,  which  inevitably  cannot  do  justice 


1 So  uncommon  is  it  that  I was  under  the  impression  that  it  was  en- 
tirely unknown  until  I examined  the  necklace  in  question  very  carefully 
after  my  return  to  England.  Certainly  I never  saw  any  of  these  tribes 
preparing  cotton  or  making  use  of  it  in  any  way  except  in  its  natural 
state  to  tip  their  blow-pipe  arrows.  String  or  yarn  of  any  sort,  except 
the  fibre  thread,  I always  found  to  be  absolutely  unobtainable  anywhere 
throughout  these  districts. 


G 


82 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


to  the  creamy  ivory,  shading  to  rich  browns,  of  the  teeth, 
making  effective  show  against  the  red  and  blue  of  the  beads, 
the  dull  colourlessness  of  the  pieces  of  bone.  Some  of  the 
teeth  have  a very  primitive  criss-cross  grooving  scratched 
on  the  fang  end,  others  have  a more  elaborate  attempt  at 
a carved  design.  Each  design  differs,  but  the  same  idea 
of  involuted  curves  is  traceable  in  all. 

In  cases  where  Indians  are  too  poor  or  too  isolated  to 
secure  a sufficient  supply  of  the  Brummagem  article,  chains 
are  still  made  of  the  bright  red  and  black  seeds  of  a bush 
plant,  as  they  were  before  beads  were  obtainable  ; or  bits 
of  bone  are  employed,  short  lengths  of  cane  or  reed,  or  even 
red  berries,  gay  enough  when  fresh,  but  dull  and  crinkled 
when  they  wither  and  fade.  Beetles  also  are  utilised  for 
ornament,  and  the  fondness  of  the  Indian  for  black  is  shown 
in  his  rejection  of  such  beetles  as  the  gaudy-coloured  Longi- 
comes  and  his  preference  for  the  shiny  breastplate  of  a fat 
squat  beetle  in  black  armour.1  These  strung  on  fibre  string 
look  like  irregularly  carved  jet  beads,  but  are  far  lighter,  and 
make  a soft  and  hollow  rattle  when  shaken. 

Besides  these  chains  and  necklaces  the  natives  are  very 
partial  to  a tight-fitting  necklet  of  white  beads  bordering 
either  side  of  a row  of  small,  flat,  diamond-shaped  pieces  of 
black  wood,  or  the  black  shell  of  a nut,  or  gourd.  These 
necklets  vary  a trifle  in  width  : some  have  the  diamond 
almost  squared,  they  may  have  one,  two,  or  three  white 
beads  between  the  black  points,  but  there  is  no  greater 
divergence  than  this  from  the  stereotyped  pattern.  The 
polished  bits  of  wood,  like  the  beetle  cases,  resemble  jet ; 
and  the  sharp  distinction  of  black  and  white  sets  off  the 
native  beauty,  as  a band  of  black  velvet  is  supposed  to  put 
the  finishing  touch  to  her  fairer  sisters. 

A favourite  ornament  among  the  Boro  and  Witoto,  and 
also  with  some  of  the  Napo  tribes,  is  a bracelet  of  iguana 
skin.  To  make  these,  a circular  piece  is  cut  off  the  creature’s 
tail,  the  ring  of  skin,  varying  in  width  from  half  to  three 
inches  wide,  is  removed  and  drawn  over  the  hand  when 
fresh  and  damp.  This  band  dries  tightly  to  the  skin  of 
* Possibly  one  of  the  Histeridae  mentioned  by  Bates,  i.  211, 


PLATE  XVI. 


NECKLACES  OF  HUMAN  AND  TIGER  TEETH 


KS fcSSfclSiiSSaW 


PLATE  XVII. 


3.  NECKLACE  OF  POLISHED  NUTSHELLS.  2.  LEG  RATTLES  OF  BEADS  AND 
NUTSHELLS.  3.  4,  5,  6.  BEAD  NECKLACES.  THE  ‘BLACK  BEADS’  ARE  BITS  OF 
POLISHED  NUTSHELL,  THREADED  BETWEEN  WHITE  BEADS. 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


83 

the  arm,  and  will  remain  there  in  spite  of  frequent  washings 
for  years.  These  lizard-skin  bracelets  can  hardly  be  seen 
in  any  of  the  photographs  reproduced  in  these  pages. 
They  are  supposed  to  have  certain  magical  properties,  and 
to  endow  the  wearer  with  special  strength  and  vigour. 
For  the  same  purpose  children  wear  a black  ring  cut  from 
a nut.  The  diameter  of  the  ring — if  inch  outside  and  quite 
a quarter  of  an  inch  less  within — does  not  permit  it  to  be 
worn  when  the  child  grows  up  ; the  arm  always  swells 
round  it,  and  obviously  it  must  eventually  be  cut  off,  but 
I cannot  speak  with  any  certainty  as  to  how  or  when  this 
is  done.  The  women’s  bracelets  are  made  of  beads  when 
they  can  be  obtained,  or  of  gay-coloured  seeds.  Those  worn 
by  the  Resigero  woman  in  the  illustration  by  page  80  are 
made  of  threaded  seeds,  or  of  beads,  wound  round  and  round 
the  forearm  with  a turn  or  two  of  white  beads  at  either  end. 
The  central  beads  are  usually  dark  red. 

Rattles  and  feather  ornaments  are  festooned  on  the  legs 
for  a dance,  but  only  the  women  wear  the  tight  ligatures 
that  swell  out  the  calf.  Both  men  and  women  among  all 
these  tribes  wear  ligatures,  the  men  on  the  upper  arm,  just 
below  the  shoulder,  the  women  on  the  leg,  below  the  knee 
and  again  above  the  ankle.  These  ligatures  are  worn 
extremely  tight,  and  result  not  in  atrophy  of  the  limb,  as 
might  be  expected,1  but  in  an  enormous  swelling  of  the 
muscles  above  or  below  them.  The  ankle  ligatures  some- 
times reach  half-way  up  the  leg.  They  all  vary  greatly 
in  breadth,  but  this  I consider  to  be  a matter  of  personal 
taste — or  possibly  personal  skill — and  not  a tribal  fashion 
or  distinction,  except  in  so  far  as  that  the  Witoto  knee 
ligatures  are  narrower  than  those  of  other  tribes,  and  are 
never  so  well  made.  But  this  confirms  the  idea  of  personal 
skill  deciding  the  pattern,  for  all  Witoto  work  is  cruder 
than  Boro  or  Okaina.  Even  the  roughest  of  these  ligatures, 
however,  is  a marvellously  neat  piece  of  workmanship,  the 
more  surprising  when  one  discovers  that  only  the  fingers 
are  used  in  its  manufacture.  A ligature  band  is  made  of  a 
very  fine  fibre  thread,  and  on  the  reverse  side  has  the  appear- 
1 Pace  Maw,  p.  226. 


84 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


ance  of  a knitted  or  crochetted  fabric  ; on  the  right  side  it 
looks  rather  like  a woven  tapestry  ribbon,  with  a slightly 
raised  pattern.  But  so  far  as  I could  ever  see  no  implement 
of  any  kind  is  employed  in  the  making  of  these  bands.1 
The  fibre  string  is  interworked  and  knotted  with  extra- 
ordinarily skilled  finger-work  only.  Sometimes  the  band 
is  decorated  by  a pattern  of  coloured  lines,  diagonals,  and 
diamonds  slightly  raised.  In  nearly  every  one  that  I saw 
closely  enough  to  examine  the  edge  was  corded,  and  the 
end  finished  with  a kind  of  buttonhole  looping.  The 
ligatures  shown  in  the  illustration  are  Witoto  and  Boro- 
made  ones.2  The  ends  are  finished  with  a line  of  open- 
work stitches  and  a buttonholed  or  twisted  edge.  Through 
the  open  spaces  twisted  fibre  cords  are  run,  and  these  pull 
the  band  together  exactly  on  the  principle  of  a lady’s  silk 
purse.  They  are  tied  in  two  knots.  A tuft  of  cords,  or 
occasionally  a bone  or  wooden  disc,  finishes  off  the  man’s 
ligature,  which  is  knotted  in  front.  The  women  lace  their 
ligatures  on,  and  fasten  them  very  securely.  I had  to  cut 
those  shown  in  Plate  XIV.  to  get  them  off  the  wearer’s  legs. 
The  Yahabana  and  other  Kuretu-speaking  tribes  wear  their 
armlets  very  tight,  and  the  skin  underneath  is  lighter  in 
shade  than  it  is  on  the  exposed  portion  of  the  limb,  according 
to  Koch-Grunberg.  This  lighter  skin  will  blister  in  the  sun 
if  unprotected. 

The  leg  rattles  are  made  of  polished  nutshells,  and  garters 
with  beaded  tassels  and  nutshells  are  fastened  below  the 
knee.  The  nutshells  vary  in  size  and  shape,  though  all  are 
approximately  bell-like  when  cut  and  strung,  with  or  with- 
out beads,  on  fibre  thread.  They  give  a tinkling  sound  if 
shaken,  and  for  this  reason,  as  they  play  a distinct  part  in 
the  native  dances,  they  are  dealt  with  in  a later  chapter 
among  the  musical  instruments.  In  addition  to  these 

1 Belts  of  apparently  similar  minute  plaiting  are  worn  by  the  Mafula  of 
British  New  Guinea.  These  natives  also  wear  armlets  and  leglets  of  the 
same  material,  but  not  tightened  to  swell  the  muscles.  The  thread  these 
are  made  of  is  manufactured  from  vegetable  fibre  in  the  identical  manner 
employed  by  the  Issa-Japura  Indians  (Williams,  The  Mafula  of  British 
New  Guinea,  pp.  32,  53,  54). 

2 Compare  illustration  with  pictures  of  ligatures  in  D.  Rannie’s  My 
Adventures  among  South  Sea  Cannibals,  pp.  80,  170,  179. 


PLATE  XVIII. 


BORO  LIGATURES 


PLATE  XIX. 


BORO  LEG  AND  ARM  LIGATURES 


WITOTO  LEG  LIGATURE 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


85 


rattles  strings  of  feather-tufted  reeds  or  bits  of  bone  are 
also  worn.  The  reeds,  cane,  or  bones,  are  about  three 
inches  long,  with  a small  bunch  of  feathers  secured  to  one 
end  by  means  of  pitch.  The  other  end  is  pierced,  fibre 
thread  strung  through,  and  the  intervals  between  the  reeds 
are  kept  by  means  of  knots. 

Similar  little  bits  of  cane  are  worn  in  the  ears,  which  are 
bored  by  all  these  tribes  at  the  age  of  puberty.  These  ear 
ornaments  are  frequently  decorated  at  one  end  with  a tuft 
of  gay  feathers.  These  are  very  neatly  arranged  in  some 
cases ; a ring  of  fine  blue  feathers  may  surround  a red  tip. 
They  are  fixed  to  the  cane  with  latex  or  pitch.  Orahone, 
which  simply  means  Big  Ears,1  is  a name  given  nowadays 
to  many  distinctly  different  tribes  who  follow  the  fashion 
of  the  Indians  on  the  Uaupes  and  the  Napo  and  insert 
large  wooden  plugs  into  the  lobes  of  their  ears.  The  Orahone 
and  some  Issa -Japura  tribes — especially  among  the  Boro- 
speaking  group — use  a disc  of  cabbage  wood.  The  Orahone 
smear  this  with  a red  vegetable  colouring  matter,  the  Boro 
fix  an  ornamented  shell  into  the  wood. 

These  wooden  plugs  are  extremely  light,  about  two  and 
five-eighth  inches  long,  and  three  inches  across  at  the  widest 
point,  that  is  the  front  rim.  This  end  is  hollowed  like  a 
shallow  egg-cup,  and  the  shell  set  in  it  is  decorated  with  a 
fine  pattern  done  in  black-and-white.  In  one  earring  in  my 
possession  the  shell,  so  far  as  I can  judge,  is  a portion  of  some 
hard,  dark  nutshell.  The  pattern  is  grooved,  or  scratched 
on  the  shell,  and  filled  in  with  a fine  white  clay.  This  gives 
the  effect  of  an  elaborate  black-and-white  inlay.  The  shell 
is  secured  in  the  hollow  with  pitch.  The  back  part  of  the 
plug  that  fits  behind  the  ear  is  not  decorated  in  any  manner. 

Very  effective  earrings  are  made  with  round  discs  of  a 
pearl-coated  river-shell  fastened  to  a short  piece  of  bamboo 
with  pitch.  The  mother-of-pearl  is  of  a deep  blue  colour, 
and  of  a good  quality.  In  shape  these  earrings  are  not 
unlike  certain  kinds  of  toadstool  with  a thin  stem  and  an 
inverted  cone  head. 

1 The  Spaniards  called  the  Inca  Orejones  on  account  of  the  large  studs 
worn  by  them  in  the  lobes  of  their  ears.  See  Joyce,  p no. 


86 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


With  the  Boro  and  other  Indians  near  the  Japura  the 
lip  also  is  perforated  for  the  insertion  of  an  ornament,  except 
among  the  Witoto,  who  do  not  use  the  labret.  This,  as  a 
rule,  is  made  of  metal,  if  it  is  in  any  way  possible  to  secure 
some.  Silver  is  occasionally  seen,  and  brass  is  obtained 
from  old  cartridge  cases,  that  are  beaten  flat  and  rubbed 
to  shape. 

Nose -pins  are  another  fashionable  adornment  of  the 
forest  Indians.  The  Makuna  wear  a long  black  pin,  a palm- 
spine,  through  the  cartilage  of  the  nose.  The  Yakuna  also 
wear  a long  pin,  and  the  Muenane  and  Witoto  women  wear 
nasal  ornaments.  The  nose-pins  of  the  Kuretu-speaking 
tribes,  Yahabana  and  others,  must  be  somewhat  of  an 
obstruction  to  the  wearer,  owing  to  their  exaggerated 
length,  30  centimetres.  In  the  central  Igara  Parana  district 
the  Boro,  especially  the  women,  insert  feathers  into  small 
holes  made  in  the  wing  of  the  nose.  Boring  the  algae  is 
peculiar  to  the  Boro-speaking  group  of  tribes,  and  to  the 
Resigero.  The  women  bore  holes  in  the  top  of  the  nostril, 
into  which  they  insert  bits  of  quill  to  keep  them  open  till  such 
times  as  a dance  is  held,  when  the  quills  are  removed  and 
small  ornaments  with  feathers  are  put  in  their  place.  No 
other  tribes  have  this  fashion.  The  Saka,  who  are  of  the 
same  language-group  as  the  Karahone,  wear  the  bones  of  birds 
instead  of  a palm  nose-pin  through  the  septum.  Robuchon 
confirms  my  observation  that  the  septum  of  the  nose  only 
is  perforated  by  the  Witoto  in  the  upper  Igara  Parana 
districts,  and  that  a goose  feather  is  then  worn.  He  also 
mentions  the  use  of  the  labret,  and  the  elongation  of  the 
lobe  of  the  ear.  There  are  many  varieties  of  ear  ornaments, 
but  most  of  them  are  big  and  enlarge  the  lobes. 

Among  the  Tuyuka  the  boys  at  the  age  of  puberty  bum 
scars  on  their  arms,  but  I have  never  seen  scarification 
among  the  Issa -Japura  tribes  ; 1 nor  is  there  much  tattooing. 
The  Menimehe,  both  men  and  women,  tattoo  the  face  and 
breast.  The  designs  show  little  artistic  skill,  and  are  all 
done  in  straight  lines.  The  patterns  on  the  cheeks  are 

1 Wallace  states  that  all  the  Indians  " have  a row  of  circular  punctures 
along  the  arm  ” (Wallace,  p.  345).  These  tribes  have  nothing  of  the  sort. 


PLATE  XX. 


i & 3.  BORO.  2.  WITOTO’  LIGATURES. 
Note  contrast  ol  texture 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


87 

simply  tribal  marks.1  The  breast  patterns  vary.  On  the 
arms  of  these  people  I have  seen  rough  representations  of 
a lizard  tattooed  as  here  illustrated.  The  incision  is  done 
with  the  spine  of  a palm,  and  the  black 
residue  from  burnt  rubber  is  rubbed  into 
the  puncture.  This  results  in  a blue 
mark.  None  of  these  tribes  have  such 
a practice  as  that  described  by  Crevaux 
of  making  chevron  marks  on  a woman’s 
thighs  to  record  the  number  of  her  male 
children.2  I know  nothing  of  this  or 
any  similar  custom,  but  some  of  the 
Boro  living  on  the  north  of  the  J apura  fig.  8. 

have  borrowed  the  idea  of  tattooing 
from  the  Menimehe,  and  wear — both  men  and  women — a 
tribal  mark  below  the  cheek-bone,  and  sometimes  a pattern 
on  the  breast.  These  are  the  only  two  groups  of  tribes 
among  whom  I ever  saw  any  people  tattooed. 

But,  if  very  few  tattoo,  all  paint.  The  Karahone  women 
are  as  fond  of  paint  as  they  are  of  beads,  and  use  more 
colours  than  other  tribes.  Their  particular  colour  is  purple. 
As  a rule  the  colours  are  red,  yellow,  black — a bluish  black — 
and  white.  The  latter  is  secured  from  certain  fruits.  A 
bright  red,  the  commonest  paint  of  all,  is  made  from  a 
prickly  burr,  or  nut,  that  is  full  of  seeds  and  red  matter.3 
Black  paint  is  obtained  by  using  charcoal,  or  the  juice  of  a 
fruit,4  and  a species  of  Cissus  has  a fruit  from  which  the 
Indians  get  their  blue  paints.  Ochre  gives  them  yellow, 
but  the  source  of  the  purple  paint  I was  unable  to 
discover. 

Red  is  a favourite  colour  with  all  the  tribes,  and  many 
women  daub  their  whole  faces  over  with  scarlet.  This  will 
quite  content  them,  and  no  further  attempt  at  a design  will 
be  made.  A blue-black  is  also  very  often  seen  smeared  on 
in  the  same  fashion,  the  juicy  stain  apparently  being  merely 

1 Wallace  describes  the  mark  as  " three  vertical  blue  lines  on  the  chin  ” 
Wallace,  p.  345).  This  is  not  correct;  vide  drawing. 

‘ Crevaux,  p.  264. 

3 The  Bixa  Orellana  (Spix  and  von  Martius,  p.  228). 

4 Genifa  americana  (Spix  and  von  Martius,  p.  228). 


88 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


squeezed  over  the  skin.  Robuchon  mentions  a custom 
among  some  Witoto  tribes  of  covering  the  body  with  latex 
and  then  sprinkling  it  with  black  ashes.  Hardenburg  also 
mentions  the  use  of  a resinous  matter  which  is  daubed  on 
by  the  Witoto.1  The  reason  for  the  former  Robuchon 
declared  he  could  not  divine.  It  was  one  of  the  secrets 
of  the  dressing-table  of  the  Kinene  girls  that  he  was  not 
prepared  to  fathom.  Sometimes  black  ashes  are  so  used, 
and  at  other  times  yellow  clay.  The  secret  is  not  so  pro- 
found as  the  French  traveller  seems  to  have  imagined.  It 
is  evidently  done  for  protective  purposes,  as  babies  in  arms 
are  invariably  treated  in  this  fashion, ..women  but  seldom. 
Occasionally  a black  juice  is  smeared  over  the  face  and  neck, 
under  the  jawbones.  This  I never  thought  was  meant  to  be 
decorative  paint,  but  always  concluded  it  was  some  manner 
of  skin  tonic. 

Among  the  Orahone,  and  also  some  of  the  Issa  and 
Japura  Indians,  the  women  cover  their  teeth  and  their 
finger-nails  with  a black  pigment. 

The  paint  is  never  allowed  to  work  off  entirely ; fresh 
designs  are  superimposed  before  the  original  has  quite  dis- 
appeared. The  women  always  paint  themselves  for  a 
dance,  and  dances  are  so  frequent  that  before  the  coat  of 
paint  is  worn  away  another  festivity  will  be  in  prospect, 
and  fresh  decorations  have  to  be  considered.  They  also 
paint  on  other  occasions  than  a dance. 

With  regard  to  the  designs  the  photographs  give  a truer 
notion  than  any  possible  description  of  the  variations  and 
tribal  fashions.  The  independent  Andoke  have  no  fixed 
pattern,  but  their  lines  appear  to  be  more  flowing.  A 
good  example  is  the  fourth  figure  in  Plate  XXI.  The  body 
in  this  case  was  coated  with  a purple  paint,  leaving  only 
a broad  seam  down  the  middle  unpainted.  This  design  is 
not  seen  elsewhere ; it  is  peculiar  to  the  Andoke.  In  one 
dance  I saw  they  painted  themselves  with  what  were  in- 
tended to  be  representations  of  their  Witoto  neighbours. 
I saw  also  the  Andoke  got  up  for  a dance  covered  with 
weapons  painted  in  my  honour,  boots,  trousers,  and  dresses 

1 Hardenburg,  p.  138. 


PLATE  XXI. 


ANDOKE  GIRLS 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS  89 

all  suggested.  Purple  paint  predominated,  and  the  effect 
was  a rough  copy  of  my  own  apparel  in  paint. 

The  patterns  are  regular ; the  most  highly  finished  ones 
are  executed  with  an  eye  to  the  lines  of  the  figure,  and  some, 
as  for  example  those  shown  in  the  accompanying  group  of 
Okaina  women,  are  of  complicated  if  crude  design.  The 
Okaina  designs  are  certainly  the  most  elaborate  that  I met 
with,  but  it  is  to  be  noted  that  in  no  case  do  the  women 
attempt  to  hide,  disguise,  or  paint  that  portion  of  the  body 
which  most  peoples  are  the  first  to  cover,  and  which  even 
among  these  tribes  is  never  exposed  by  the  males.1 

The  effect  of  paint  on  the  legs  of  women  wearing  tight 
ligatures  is,  as  Robuchon  very  aptly  remarked,  to  give 
them  the  semblance  of  small  balcony  pillars.  Among  the 
less  particular — the  Witoto  especially  being  the  more  lax 
in  this  as  in  all  other  matters — the  regular  designs  are  not 
attempted,  and  paint  is  daubed  crudely  on  the  body  in 
smears  and  splotches,  with  a result  that  is  bizarre  in  the 
extreme. 

The  men  are  painted  by  their  women  before  a dance,  but 
never  in  the  intricate  patterns  and  variety  of  colour  used 
by  the  ladies  of  the  community  themselves. 

On  one  occasion  among  the  Okaina  three  of  the  old 
women  of  the  tribe  were  sent  to  me  with  purple  paint,  to 
paint  me  for  the  festivity.  The  Andoke  men  seem  more 
given  to  painting  themselves  than  the  men  of  other  tribes, 
and  always  use  purple  paint.  A common  device  is  a 
lizard,  some  nine  inches  long,  painted  on  the  back  and  in 
front  on  the  middle  of  the  chest.  But  painting  is  not  a 
universal  custom  among  the  men  as  with  the  women.  I 
do  not  remember,  for  instance,  to  have  seen  a Witoto  man 
painted. 

1 " Covering,  if  not  used  as  a protection  from  the  climate,  owes  its  origin, 
at  least  in  a great  many  cases,  to  the  desire  of  men  and  women  to  make 
themselves  mutually  attractive  " (Westermarck,  p.  211).  “ Clothing  was 

first  adopted  as  a means  of  decoration  rather  than  from  motives  of  decency. 
The  private  parts  were  first  adorned  with  the  appendages  that  were  after- 
wards used  by  a dawning  sense  of  modesty  to  conceal  them”  (Johnston, 
The  River  Congo,  p.  418). 


CHAPTER  VI 


Occupations — Sexual  division  and  tabu — Tribal  manufactures — Arts  and 
crafts — Drawing — Carving — Metals — Tools  and  implements — No  tex- 
tile fabrics — Pottery— -Basket  making — Hammocks — Cassava-squeezer 
and  grater  — Pestle  and  mortar  — Wooden  vessels  — Stone  axes  — 
Methods  of  felling  trees — Canoes — Rafts — Paddles. 


Life  in  Amazonia  to  the  man  is  occasionally  strenuous, 
frequently  a veritable  dolce  far  niente  ; to  the  woman  it 
is  a ceaseless  round  of  toilsome  duties,  broken  only  by  the 
excitement  of  preparation  for,  and  participation  in,  a tribal 
dance.  The  division  of  occupations  between  the  sexes  is 
possibly  uneven,  but  very  certainly  strict.  In  many  cases 
it  amounts  to  a tabu,1  and  as  a rule  the  reason  for  this  division 
is  either  apparent  or  confessed.  It  is  absolutely  a question 
of  sex.  To  men  appertain  defensive  measures,  all  that  calls 
for  physical  strength  and  skill,  war,  the  chase,  the  manu- 
facture of  weapons,  the  preparation  of  certain  poisons  and 
drinks,  especially  those  that  are  used  ceremonially.  Men 
paddle  the  canoes,  except  in  extreme  cases,  when  a sufficiency 
of  men  is  not  forthcoming,  and  women  perforce  must  lend 
their  aid.  They  cut  the  wood  and  build  the  houses.  They 
climb  the  trees  to  gather  fruit,  clear  the  plantations,  and 
turn  the  soil.  Woman  is  the  housewife,  the  mother,  and  the 
cook,  but  she  is  also  the  agriculturalist  and  the  maker  of  all 
purely  domestic  implements.  She  manufactures  the  ham- 
mocks, the  rough  pottery,  and  most  of  the  baskets,  although 

1 The  result  of  this  is  that  a traveller  is  forced  to  have  women  as  well 
as  men  in  his  escort,  or  he  would  find  that  half  the  services  required  would 
not  be  rendered  him.  For  instance,  no  male  Indian  will  prepare  food, 
neither  will  he  wash  clothes,  nor  clean  the  cooking  vessels.  This  refers 
to  the  untouched  districts,  and  must  not  be  confused  with  the  forced 
“ willingness  " of  the  Rubber  Belts. 

90 


PLATE  XXII. 


WITOTO  BASKETS  OF  SPLIT  CANE  AND  FIBRE. 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


9i 

it  would  not  be  considered  derogatory  on  the  part  of  the 
man  to  lend  a hand  if  necessary. 

Besides  this  sexual  differentiation  various  tribes  have 
their  special  manufactures  in  which  they  excel  their 
neighbours.  The  Menimehe  are  known  as  great  pottery 
workers.  The  Karahone  are  renowned  for  their  poisons. 
The  Boro  specialise  on  mat-making,  plaiting,  the  manufac- 
ture of  ligatures,  and  the  preparation  of  blow-pipes.  The 
Witoto  hammocks  are  better  than  those  of  other  tribes. 
Trade  in  any  organised  form  is  non-existent,  it  is  true,  but 
articles  pass,  as  I have  already  described,  irregularly  by 
personal  barter  and  exchange  of  gifts  to  other  tribes  ; and 
in  this  fashion  the  poison  of  the  Karahone  reaches  tribes 
unknown  to  the  makers,  and  beads  made  in  Birmingham 
filter  down  by  many  and  devious  routes  even  to  these 
isolated  wilds.  Over  fifty  years  ago  Wallace  estimated  that 
some  thousands  of  pounds’  worth  of  trade  goods  passed  up 
the  Uaupes  yearly,1  and  this  accounts  for  the  fact  that 
tribes  north  of  the  Japura  are  better  supplied  than  those  of 
the  south.  The  best  articles  for  barter  I found  were  axes, 
knives,  combs — especially  scurf-combs — and  Brummagem 
beads.  Cloth  and  fowling-pieces  are  not  valued  except 
in  the  Rubber  Belt ; the  less  sophisticated  Indian  of  the 
backwoods  has  no  manner  of  use  for  them  : cloth  is  less 
ornamental  than  paint,  and  the  scatter-gun  only  frightens 
the  game  and  lessens  the  kill. 

Indian  arts  and  crafts  are  neither  numerous  nor  particu- 
larly complex ; indeed  arts — with  the  exception  of  music 
and  dancing — are  almost  unknown.  There  are  no  rock 
pictures  in  the  Issa -Japura  valleys,  such  as  those  executed 
by  the  Indians  in  so  many  other  parts  of  the  Americas,  but 
then  there  are  no  rocks.  I have  occasionally  among  the 
Andoke  and  the  Boro  seen  pictures  of  a rude  type  on  the 
supports  of  the  houses,  and  on  the  four  large  central  posts 
of  the  big  maloka  ; or  these  may  be  roughly  carved.  There 
is  carving  also  on  some  of  the  dancing  staves.  But  these 
people  have  no  great  use  for  colour  and  line  beyond  the 
ornamentation  of  their  bodies,  and  in  a lesser  degree  of  their 
1 A.  R.  Wallace,  p.  349. 


92 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


pottery.  They  make  no  attempt  to  use  drawing  for  in- 
formative purposes.  Elsewhere  Indians  have  shown  them- 
selves skilful  map-makers,1  but  none  of  these  tribes  could  so 
much  as  draw  a rough  chart  of  their  own  district.  Yet  this 
district  to  them  represents  the  whole  world.  They  do  not 
realise  that  there  can  be  any  other  people  but  themselves 
and  the  half-dozen  tribes  or  so  who  happen  to  be  in  their 
immediate  vicinity,  and  always  regarded  it  as  a huge  joke 
on  my  part  when  I talked  of  the  sea  and  the  vast  countries 
beyond. 

One  tribe  of  Witoto  do  possess  a drawing  on  bark-cloth 
that  is  their  equivalent  of  a map  of  the  world.  This  tribe 
when  I visited  them  were  located  near  the  source  of  the 
Karaparana,  and  the  “ map  ” was  so  very  exceptional  an 
acquisition  that  it  was  known  and  talked  about  by  far  dis- 
tant tribes  who  had  never  seen  either  it  or  its  possessors. 
In  fact,  it  was  one  of  the  wonders  of  the  universe,  to  be 
bragged  about  to  any  stranger  who  was  ignorantly  unaware 
of  its  existence.  Nothing  I could  offer  would  persuade  these 
Witoto  to  part  with  their  treasure,  and  unfortunately  I 
was  unable  to  obtain  a photograph  of  it.  My  too  evident 
interest  aroused  suspicion,  and  on  this  account  I was  unable 
to  study  it  clearly,  as  I saw  it  but  for  a moment,  and  that  in 
a dark  house  before  my  eyes  were  accustomed  to  the  gloom. 
It  was  almost  immediately  hidden  for  fear  I should  seize  it. 
This  map  was  made  on  beaten  bark  about  two  feet  square. 
The  centre  was  divided  into  about  a dozen  squares.  In  each 
square  very  crude  human  figures  were  represented  fighting, 
planting,  or  hunting  in  their  own  tribal  territory.  These 
were  the  “ nations  ” of  the  world.  The  dividing  lines  were 
of  red  vegetable  pigment.  The  “ nations,”  so  far  as  I could 
see,  were  fighting  amongst  themselves.  In  the  margin  were 
the  sun,  a moon,  and  many  stars.  I saw  nothing  to  designate 
spirits  or  Taife.  So  ancient  was  this  map,  handed  down 
from  generation  to  generation,  that  divine  origin  or  use  was 

1 E.  B.  Tylor  notes  that  the  savage  is  often  skilled  in  map-making  as 
a form  of  picture-writing  (op.  cit.  p.  90),  and  quotes  Prescott  for  the  exist- 
ence of  maps  in  Peru  before  Europeans  reached  South  America  (Prescott, 
Peru,  i.  1 1 6).  Ancient  maps  or  books  like  “ rolled  up  palm  leaves”  (Ratzel, 
ii.  169). 


PI. ATE  XXIII. 


NECKLACE  of  jaguar-teeth,  incised, 

BORO  NECKLACE  OF  JAGUARS  TEETH  WITH  AND  FLUTE  MADE  OF  HUMAN  BONE 

INCISED  PATTERNS 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


93 

assumed.  It  was  said  to  be  the  world  in  the  days  when  the 
Good  Spirit  appeared  to  man.1 

Slight  carvings,  such  as  can  be  seen  in  the  accompanying 
illustration,  are  done  at  times  on  the  teeth  that  they  string 
for  a necklace  ; and  among  the  Witoto  I twice  met  with 
examples  of  figures  carved  in  wood.  The  two  figures  in  the 
first  instance,  a nude  man  and  woman,  were  life-size.  They 
were  painted  white  with  designs  in  black  and  red  to  represent 
the  paintings  done  for  a dance.  These  figures  were  placed 
on  either  side  of  the  door  jambs  outside,  and  were  the  only 
two  of  the  kind  I ever  saw  or  heard  of  in  the  country.  They 
were  greatly  prized  by  their  owners,  and  spoken  of  by  neigh- 
bours as  notable  achievements.  No  one  had  any  idea  who 
made  them,  or  when  they  were  made,  and  if  questioned 
simply  said  they  always  had  been. 

In  the  second  instance  the  figure  was  a small  female  doll. 
It  was  in  the  possession  of  the  daughter  of  a chief  of  the 
Itoma  Gurra  tribe  of  Witoto,  a young  girl,  but  who  had 
arrived  at  maturity.  The  Indians  said  the  doll  was  for  the 
children  to  play  with,  but  such  toys  are  extremely  scarce. 
This  one  was  about  eight  inches  high,  and  was  made  of  some 
very  light  wood,  painted  white,  with  the  organs  that  denoted 
the  sex  marked  in  red.2  The  toy  was  not  regarded  in  any 
way  as  an  idol,  nor  was  there  any  suggestion  of  magical 
powers  attaching  to  it.  To  secure  such  a toy  is  almost 
impossible,  but  this  doll  I did  obtain.  Unfortunately  I 
showed  it  to  an  Indian  afterwards,  who  told  me  that  his 
tribe  made  such  things,  and  that  he  could  get  me  a pair  to 
it.  I gave  him  the  toy,  but  never  saw  him  or  the  doll  again. 
This  was  unusual.  As  a rule  when  an  Indian  says  he  will 
do  anything  he  keeps  his  word. 

Smelting,  or  any  description  of  metallurgy,  cannot  be 
looked  for  among  the  inhabitants  of  a country  so  singularly 
devoid  of  all  metalliferous  deposit  or  formation.  Metal 

1 See  Chap.  XVIII. 

2 Pudenda  maioris  statuae  muliebris  nigra,  labia  maiora  rubra  picta 
sunt  ; sed  et  in  maiore  et  in  minore  statua  vagina  tam  profunde  perforata  est 
ut  transitum  ab  vulva  ad  uterum  suggerere  videatur.  Scrotum  statuae  virilis 
nigrum,  praeputium  rubrum,  pictum  est  ; membrum  autem  ipsum,  quamvis 
quiescens,  erectum  tamen  est  et  sic  ad  abdomen  parallelum. 


94 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


there  is  practically  none  in  the  aboriginal  homes  of  the 
natives,  and  whatever  of  it  is  received,  be  it  but  a trousers- 
button,  becomes  at  once  an  heirloom  and  a treasure.  Their 
only  method  of  working  metal  when  obtained  is  to  heat  and 
hammer  it  into  various  forms  and  shapes  for  ornaments. 
Weapons  and  implements  alike  must  be  contrived  of  other 
materials.  In  normal  conditions  man,  without  the  know- 
ledge to  work  ore,  turns  to  stone  for  substitute,  but  conditions 
in  Amazonia  are,  as  has  already  been  shown,  abnormal. 
If  there  is  no  metal  neither  is  there  any  stone.  It  is  so  rare 
that  it  is  looked  upon  as  almost  sacred,1  and  implements 
fashioned  of  it  are  not  made  nowadays  by  the  tribes,  but  those 
in  use  are  handed  down  from  one  generation  to  another. 
North  of  the  Japura,  where  quartz  can  be  obtained,  at  least 
by  barter,  it  is  used  for  knives,  arrow-heads,  spear-points, 
and  cassava-graters  ; but  these  Issa -Japura  Indians  have  to 
content  themselves  with  wood  and  palm-spines,  and  have 
only  their  ancestral  stone  axes.2  These  are  constructed 
in  true  “ prehistoric  ” manner ; the  stones  have  been 
and  are  fastened  to  their  wooden  hafts  with  fibre  lashings 
fixed  by  vegetable  pitch.3  The  Indian  cannot  say  from 
whence  they  came,  there  is  no  memory  of  their  makers ; 
they  are,  in  fact,  looked  upon  as  veritable  gifts  from  the 
gods. 

Wooden  knives  are  constructed  from  such  hardwood 
trees  as  the  black  ironwood.  These  knives  and  stone  axes 
will  be  used  by  Indians  even  more  in  touch  with  civilisation 
than  these  tribes,  possibly  because  the  Brummagem  trade- 
goods  knife  and  hatchet  has  been  proved  useless  for  practical 
wear. 


1 See  Chap.  XVII. 

3 Keane  tells  of  the  Mojos  valley  natives  that  so  uncommon  is  stone 
in  that  district  that  if  a man  set  out  on  a journey  to  the  uplands  where 
stone  is  procurable  he  would  be  asked  to  bring  some  back  as  a curiosity 
(Keane,  p.  12).  For  some  use  of  stone  implements  of  the  past  still  employed 
among  present-day  peoples,  see  Mitchell,  Past  in  the  Present,  p.  12,  etc. ; 
Routledge,  With  a Neolithic  People',  Spencer  and  Gillen,  Native  Tribes 
of  Central  Australia,  pp.  592-4,  etc. ; Skeat  and  Blagden,  Pagan  Races  of 
the  Malay  Peninsula,  i.  242,  296. 

3 Spruce  mentions  a white  pitch  obtained  from  Idea  trees.  I never  saw 
any  white  pitch.  These  Indians  use  only  black. 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


95 


For  boring  purposes  the  Indians  make  an  instrument 
like  a bradawl  T with  a capybara’s  tooth,  and  a paca  tooth 
is  used  for  scraping.  With  these  simple  implements  the 
labour  involved  in  producing  such  a weapon  as  the  blow- 
pipe is  enormous.  But  these  are  all  the  tools  the  Indian 
craftsmen  possess. 

Manufactures  among  the  Issa -Japura  tribes  are  not 
numerous.  These  Indians  have  no  textile  fabrics  ; they 
neither  spin  nor  weave ; everything  is  done  by  finger-work, 
and  the  local  substitutes  for  woven  goods  are  beaten  bark- 
cloth  and  netted  or  plaited  palm-fibre.  This,  as  a rule,  is 
in  its  natural  colour,  as  very  little  dye  is  ever  employed. 
There  is  no  leather  working.  The  only  use  made  of  the  skins 
of  animals,  I ever  discovered,  was  that  some  Menimehe  tribes 
had  large  round  shields  of  tapir  hides,  two  to  five  hides 
superimposed  one  on  another ; 1 the  medicine -men  make 
garments  of  the  same  leather ; while  the  medicine-pouch  is 
often  made  of  the  unshorn  skin  of  the  jaguar.  Leather 
thongs  are  sometimes  employed  for  tying  purposes,  such  as 
securing  an  axe-haft,  and  on  the  north  of  the  Japura  to 
string  a bow,  but  the  ubiquitous  fibre  and  liana  are  in  more 
general  use. 

Glass  is  unknown  to  the  Indian,  but  every  tribe  makes 
its  own  pottery.  Earthenware  pots  are  used  by  all  Indians 
for  cooking.  The  best  are  manufactured  by  the  Menimehe 
women,  and  are  distinguished  by  the  red  and  black  colouring. 
This  is  obtained  by  the  use  of  certain  juices  extracted  from 
the  bark  of  a tree.  These  handsome,  well-finished  pots 
are  a great  article  of  barter,  and  are  exchanged  for  other 
products  of  friendly  tribes.  Thus  they  are  to  be  found  at 
far  distances  from  where  they  are  made  on  the  northern 
bank  of  the  Japura.  It  amounts  to  a trade,  distinct  if 
unorganised. 

Pottery-making  is  the  sole  province  of  the  women  in  any 
tribe,  earthenware  appertaining  to  the  culinary  department 
which  is  their  special  sphere.  The  pots,  entirely  made  and 
shaped  by  hand,  when  finished  are  beautifully  symmetrical, 
though  the  Indian  potters  possess  nothing  approximating 

1 Some  tribes  near  the  Napo  also  use  circular  shields  of  tapir  hide,  p.  n6. 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


96 

to  a wheel.1  Squatting  on  the  ground  the  women  work 
and  mould  the  clay,  and  rub  it  between  their  hands  into 
long  cylinders  very  much  like  plug  tobacco.  These  are 
coiled  round  and  round  and  kneaded  into  a previously  con- 
structed shape ; or  the  women  will  prepare  a circular  hole  in 
the  ground  and  mould  the  clay  into  that.  The  plastic  coils 
are  then  worked  round  with  any  hard  thing  that  is  handy — 
a bone  or  a piece  of  wood.  When  the  vessel  is  built  up  to 
the  size  intended  it  is  carefully  rubbed  before  it  is  set  out 
to  dry  in  the  sun.  Finally,  hot  ashes  are  heaped  over  the 
pots,  which  are  baked  slowly  and  polished  afterwards. 

The  clay  used  is  commonly  to  be  found  on  the  river- 
banks,  and  with  it  the  Indians  mix  wood  ashes,  either  to 
stiffen  it  or,  as  Crevaux  suggests,2  to  render  the  finished 
article  more  porous,  so  that  its  contents  are  kept  cool  by 
evaporation.  This  pottery  is  known  as  caraip6  ware,  from 
the  fact  that  the  ashes  of  the  caraip6  bark  are  preferred  for 
its  manufacture.3  In  some  districts  vessels  of  even  a very 
large  size  are  made  of  it,4  but  I never  saw  any  big  pots 
either  imported  or  made  locally  in  the  Issa -Japura  valleys. 
The  large  vessels  used  for  making  kawana  by  these  tribes 
consist  merely  of  huge  strips  of  the  inner  bark  of  the  tree, 
riveted  together  with  thorns  or  spines,  and  set  upright 
on  a hard  earthen  surface ; or  else  a section  of  a great 
tree  trunk  is  hollowed  out  to  make  a trough.  Large  flat 
plates  to  bake  the  cassava  cakes  on  are  made  of  earthenware, 
but  very  often  only  wooden  platters  are  used. 

Women  are  not  the  tribal  potters  alone ; they  are  also 
the  chief  basket-makers,  though  on  occasions  the  men  will 
make  baskets.  Both  Karahone  and  Boro  Indians  excel  in 
basket-making,  though  all  tribes  are  skilful  enough  at  it. 
If  you  give  an  Indian  anything  to  carry  he  never  dreams 
of  holding  it  in  his  hands  if  it  will  allow  of  other  carriage. 
He  either  winds  a strip  of  bark-fibre  round  his  head  to 
make  a sling  in  which  to  place  it,  or,  if  it  were  anything 

1 The  use  of  the  potter’s  wheel  was  even  unknown  to  the  Incas  (Joyce, 
p.  193).  2 Crevaux,  p.  193. 

3 The  caraipe  tree  is,  according  to  Spruce  and  Bentham,  one  of  the 
Licania  genus  of  the  Chrysobalaneae  order  (Spruce,  i.  13). 

4 Spruce,  i.  14. 


PLATE  XXIV 


BORO  CASSAVA-SQUEEZER.  {a)  L00P  AT  END 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


97 


that  did  not  admit  of  easy  adjustment — as,  for  instance, 
fruit — he  gathers  some  green  palm  leaves,  and  in  about  five 
minutes  has  plaited  them,  on  a foundation  of  two  rods,  into 
a long  and  deep  square  basket,  which  is  thrown  away  at  the 
end  of  the  march.  Such  quickly  made  baskets  are  con- 
tinually in  use,  but  the  tribes  also  construct  more  elaborate 
ones  that  can  be  utilised  for  more  than  immediate  purposes. 
In  every  maloka  may  be  seen  baskets  of  plaited  bark-fibre 
and  of  plaited  cane,1  usually  white,  but  sometimes  with  an 
interwoven  and  regular  pattern  in  black  cane.  The  Resigero 
make  bottle-shaped  baskets  as  receptacles  for  edible  ants. 
A large  basket  is  carried  on  the  back,  slung  from  the 
forehead  with  the  customary  band  of  bark-fibre. 

Quite  as  important  as  the  pottery  is  the  manufacture  of 
hammocks.2  This  again  is  done  by  the  women  of  the 
tribes.  It  is  woman’s,  that  is  to  say  light,  work.  All  these 
tribes  make  them  on  the  same  principle  and  in  the  same  way, 
the  only  difference  in  the  hammocks  of  different  tribes  is 
the  spacing  of  the  cross- threads.  This,  according  to  Hamil- 
ton Rice,  is  a tribal  distinction,  each  group  of  tribes  having 
an  individual  spacing.3  The  material  used  is  curana  string 
or  palm-fibre.  To  prepare  this  the  women  take  the  pinnate 
leaflets  of  the  Chambiri  palm  4 and  fold  over  each  strip  at 

1 The  Cerropia  peltata,  according  to  Spix  and  Martius,  p.  259. 

s Tylor  mentions  the  hammock  as  one  of  “ the  inventions  which  it 
seems  possible  to  trace  to  their  original  districts,"  and  states  that  it  has 
spread  from  South  America  and  the  West  Indies  " far  and  wide  over  the 
world,  carrying  with  it  its  Haitian  name,  hamac”  [op.  cit.  p.  175).  It  is 
interesting  to  note  in  this  connection  that  a hammock  is  known  as  a 
hamaka  among  the  Yakuna  ; the  Tariana  call  it  hamaka  or  amaka  ; and 
the  Yavitero  Indians  call  it  aimaiha  (Koch-Grunberg,  Aruak-Sprachen 
Nordwestbrasiliens  und  der  angrenzenden  Gebiete,  p.  65).  The  Bare  Indians 
call  it  mi ; the  Baniwa  bidzaha  or  bisali  ; the  Siusi  pieta  or  piete  ; the 
Katapolitani  change  the  t to  d and  have  pieda  ; the  Kurutana  call  it 
makaitepa  ; the  Uarekena  say  soalita  (Koch-Griinberg,  op.  cit.) ; while  the 
Pioje  call  hammocks  jangre  (Simson,  p.  268).  The  Witoto  word  is  kinai 
and  the  Boro  gwapa. 

* Hamilton  Rice  gives  the  distances  between  the  meshes  as  the  space 
of  thumb  to  little  finger  stretch  for  the  Witoto,  palm-length  for  the  Kara- 
hone,  four  fingers  for  the  Cubbeo  (p.  700).  I knew  the  spacing  differed, 
but  never  heard  that  it  was  a tribal  distinction. 

1 The  palm  employed  is,  according  to  Bates,  an  Astrocaryum  (Bates, 
ii.  209).  Wallace  and  im  Thurn  mention  the  Mauritia  flexuosa  (A.  R. 
Wallace,  p.  342  ; im  Thurn,  pp.283,  290),  which,  according  to  Spruce,  "seems 
confined  to  the  submaritime  region”  (Spruce,  i.  15).  He  gives  Bromelia 

H 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


98 

its  broadest  part.  They  grip  it  tightly  and  shred  it  down 
with  the  thumb  and  forefinger.  The  fibre  thus  procured  is 
then  twisted  into  a cord  by  rolling  it  tightly  and  hard  against 
the  naked  thigh. 

To  make  a hammock  a woman  takes  a length  of  this 
fibre  string  and  turns  it  round,  backwards  and  forwards 
between  two  posts  set  in  the  earthen  floor  of  the  maloka. 
Cross  strings  of  the  same  material  are  then  tied  at  the  regula- 
tion intervals  and  knotted  across,  from  string  to  string,  to 
the  opposite  side.  No  implement  of  any  kind  is  used ; the 
two  posts  are  the  only  framework,  and  the  whole  construc- 
tion is  carried  out  entirely  by  the  women’s  fingers  without 
any  artificial  aid. 

The  cassava-squeezer,  that  essential  complement  to  an 
Indian  household,  is  another  plaited  or  basket-work  article. 
The  squeezer,  which  is  common  to  the  Boro  and  all  the 
tribes  north  or  south,  except  the  Witoto,  the  Muenane,  and 
the  Nonuya,  consists  of  a long  cylinder  with  a loop  at  both 
ends.  One  is  attached  to  a rafter,  and  the  other  to  a stout 
stick,  on  which  a woman  sits,  and  thereby  pulls  upon  the 
cylinder.  The  manioc  is  inserted  through  the  open  end 
before  the  weight  is  applied,  and  the  elastic  structure  widens 
out  to  permit  the  soaked  and  grated  roots  to  be  packed  in, 
till  it  resembles  nothing  so  much  as  a well-filled  Christmas 
stocking  ; but  when  pressure  is  brought  to  bear  on  the  lower 
end  the  cylinder  gradually  elongates,  and  thereby  contracts, 
crushing  the  roots  to  a pulp,  from  which  the  poisonous  juice 
drains  away. 

The  material  used  to  make  these  squeezers  appears  to  be 
a species  of  cane,  but  is  said  to  be  the  bark  of  a palm  tree.* 1 
It  is  cut  into  narrow  strips  and  closely  plaited  into  an  elastic 
bottle  some  seven  to  ten  feet  long,  and  not  more  than  about 
six  inches  wide  when  open.  Instead  of  this  cylinder  the 
Witoto  use  a long  web,  a rectangular  strip  about  ten  inches 
wide  of  plaited  bark-fibre,  about  an  inch  wide.  This  they 
wind  round  the  grated  manioc  after  the  manner  that  putties 

karatas,  ii.  520.  Spix  and  Martius  give  the  Tucuma  palm  ( Astrocaryum 
vulgare)  and  others  of  the  same  genus  (Spix  and  Martius,  p.  248). 

1 “ A species  of  Desmoncus  ” (A.  R.  Wallace,  p.  336). 


PLATE  XXV. 


OKAINA  GROUP 
Note  Coca  pestle  and  mortar. 


GROUP  OK  OKAINA  WOMEN 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


99 


are  adjusted  on  the  leg.  The  tighter  they  twist  the  pliable 
web  the  greater  the  pressure  upon  the  crushed  roots,  and  the 
juice  is  thus  wrung  out  of  them. 

The  grater  that  is  used  to  scrape  the  manioc  roots,  before 
they  are  placed  in  the  squeezer,  is  a wooden  implement 
made  by  the  Indian  women  themselves.1  It  is  a flat  oval. 
The  one  in  the  illustration  measures  i6|  inches  by  5§  inches. 
The  wood  is  of  a bamboo  type  set  with  short  black  palm- 
spines  about  an  eighth  of  an  inch  apart,  thicker  at  one  end 
than  the  other,  but  arranged  in  no  regular  pattern.  These 
spines  are  fixed  into  the  wood  and  project  about  an  eighth 
of  an  inch  above  it.  Those  in  which  quartz  stones  are  in- 
serted instead  of  spines  are  a valuable  commercial  com- 
modity north  of  the  Japura. 

I never  saw  manioc  crushed,  as  Robuchon  described, 
with  a pestle  and  mortar  ; but  these  articles  are  in  frequent 
use,  especially  for  the  preparation  of  coca  and  tobacco, 
so  they  are  items  of  importance  in  an  Indian  inventory.  A 
mortar  is  easily  improvised  from  the  hollowed  trunk  of  a 
tree,  and  such  a small  mortar,  with  a long  heavy  pounder, 
is  shown  on  the  right  of  the  photograph  of  a group  of 
Okaina  Indians.  It  is  being  used  to  pound  coca  (Plate 
XXV.).  The  pestles  are  made  of  some  heavy  wood,  such  as 
red  wood  or  mahogany,  and  the  lower  trunk  of  the  peach 
palm,2  or  a block  of  ironwood  makes  a very  solid  mortar. 
The  peach-palm  trunk  is  hollow,  that  is  to  say,  it  has  a very 
hard  shell  filled  with  soft  pith  that  can  be  scraped  out  with 
little  difficulty.3  Some  of  these  mortars  are  of  great  size. 
Spruce  gives  the  measurements  as  five  to  six  feet  high,  but 
none  I saw  were  more  than  four  feet. 

Not  only  are  mortars  and  troughs  made  from  the  tree 
trunks,  but  bark  is  cut  into  long  strips  to  make  smaller 
vessels,  shallow  concave  trays  not  unlike  the  Arunta  hard- 
wood pitchi .4  The  method  is  ingenious  by  which  the  bark 

1 Women  make  both  cassava-squeezers  and  graters.  This  may  be  a 
coincidence,  as  I have  seen  men  making  the  mats  for  the  doorways,  usually 
women’s  work. 

Guilielmia  speciosa.  3 Spruce,  ii.  447. 

4 Spencer  and  Gillen,  Native  Tribes  of  Central  Australia,  pp.  668-9,  and 
Across  Australia. 


100 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


is  stripped  from  the  trunk,  or  the  tree  is  felled,  for  the  prin- 
ciple in  each  case  is  the  same.  Round  the  trunk  of  the 
selected  tree  a number  of  small  holes  are  made,  or,  if  only  a 
portion  is  to  be  removed,  the  trunk  is  notched  at  the 
required  distances.  The  edge  of  the  stone  axe  is  inserted  in 
the  notch,  and  the  slip  of  wood  is  levered  up  with  it  until  it 
splits  away  at  the  lower  notch  ; or,  if  the  tree  is  to  be 
felled,  the  holes  are  widened  into  grooves  that  are  deepened 
round  the  trunk  till  it  gives  way — a somewhat  slow  process, 
but  a sure  one. 

In  this  fashion  the  Indians  cut  down  the  trees  from  which 
their  boats  are  to  be  made.  A tree  is  felled,  preferably  a 
cedar,1  and  the  trunk  is  hollowed  out  for  the  length  required, 
which  varies,  but  may  be  as  much  as  20  feet,  though 
the  breadth  will  not  exceed  18  inches.  To  hollow  the 
trunk  the  Indians  bore  holes  in  the  wood  in  order  to  secure 
the  proper  thickness,  and  then  slit  off  pieces  with  their 
stone  axes.  These  are  kindled  into  a fire  to  which  logs 
of  wood  are  added.  This  burns  out  the  required  cavity, 
and  when  the  trunk  is  very  hot  the  burning  embers  are 
scraped  away  and  the  burnt  trunk  is  forced  apart,  which  is 
done  by  gradually  inserting  longer  logs  that  are  hammered 
into  place.  This  is  a job  that  needs  to  be  done  deftly  and 
quickly,  or  the  cooling  wood  will  soon  either  contract  too 
much  or  break  at  the  strain.  The  heat  also  causes  the  ends 
to  curve  upwards,  so  that  the  bow  and  the  stern  of  the  boat 
will  rise  higher  than  the  centre.  Such  a “ dug-out  ” is  a 
heavy  concern,  often  with  a specific  gravity  greater  than 
that  of  water. 

These  boats  belong  to  the  community,  and  are  not  many 
in  number.  They  are  never  left  on  the  bank,  nor  are  they 
kept  in  the  maloka,  but  are  hidden  in  the  bush  near  the  river- 
banks.  The  paddles,  however,  are  kept  in  the  house,  stored 
overhead  on  the  rafters. 

1 Any  hard  wood  may  be  used,  but  cedar  makes  the  best  canoe.  Hamil- 
ton Rice  says  cachicama  (Rice,  p.  691).  Spruce  mentions  " a heavy  laurel, 
probably  Paraturi,”  used  by  the  Tussari  for  making  their  cascos  (Spruce, 
i.  413).  Bates  mentions  the  Itauba  amarello,  “ the  yellow  variety  of  the 
stone-wood”  (Bates,  ii.  117).  But  all  trees  will  not  do,  for  some  will  not 
open  properly  when  they  are  fired  (Andr6,  pp.  241-2). 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


IOI 


All  the  tribes  of  the  Issa  and  Japura  valleys  make  these 
rather  clumsy  craft,  but  it  is  possible  that  the  original  idea 
is  not  indigenous,  and  that  the  autochthonic  boat  is  the 
temporary  canoe  made  from  the  hollowed  trunk  of  the  bulge- 
stemmed palm.1  These  canoes  can  be  fashioned  in  an  hour 
or  two.  The  soft  pulp  is  removed  easily  with  a knife,  or 
even  may  be  crushed  up  with  the  fingers,  but  the  bark  is 
very  hard,  and  the  bulging  portion  of  the  trunk  is  shaped 
already  for  the  craft.  The  ends  are  stiffened  with  clay, 
and  the  improvised  canoe  is  ready  for  use,  and  is  quite 
sufficient  for  casual  purposes — to  cross  a river  when  too  deep 
to  ford  or  too  wide  to  bridge, — and  being  of  no  permanent 
value  it  may  be  left  to  drift  away  down-stream  when  used.2 

Spruce  mentions  tribes  who  cannot  make  canoes,  and  have 
to  construct  rafts  to  cross  any  main  river  ; 3 but  rafts  are 
not  used  on  the  Issa  or  J apura  streams  except  by  the  rubber- 
workers.  They  make  them  of  trunks  of  light  wood  lashed 
with  liana  or  withes,  with  a rail  at  the  side,  but  such  a 
construction  is  unknown  to  those  Indians  who  have  not  met 
with  the  “ civilised  ” invaders  from  the  Rubber  Belts.  The 
Catanixi,  so  Wallace  states,  make  canoes  of  the  bark  of  trees 
stripped  off  in  one  sheet,4  but  I never  saw  anything  approach- 
ing the  “ birch-bark  ” canoe,  though  some  of  the  “ civilised  ” 
Indians  use  a montaria,  a built  boat  that  is  certainly  not 
indigenous. 

The  canoes  are  propelled  with  paddles  from  four  to  five 
feet  long,  cut  from  the  solid  block  of  wood,  elongated  in  the 
blade,  not  rounded,  as  is  universal  on  the  main  Amazon 
river.  They  may  be  decorated  with  roughly  painted  de- 
signs. Indians  always  paddle  in  unison,  sometimes  on 
alternate  sides,  sometimes  three  together  on  one  side  and 
three  on  the  other.  They  face  the  way  they  are  going, 
as  one  would  in  a “ Canadian  ” or  " Rob  Roy,”  and  the 
man  in  the  bow  steers.  When  two  men  paddle  a large  canoe 
both  will  sit  forward  and  paddle  from  the  bow. 

1 Iriartea  ventricosa. 

2 This  is  said  to  be  the  only  kind  of  canoe  used  by  the  Auhishiri  (cf. 
Simson,  p.  199). 

3 Viz.  the  Maca,  the  Guaharibo,  and  the  Guahibo  (Spruce,  i.  477). 

1 Wallace,  p.  358. 


CHAPTER  VII 


Agriculture — Plantations — Preparation  of  ground  in  the  forest — Paucity 
of  agricultural  instruments — Need  for  diligence — Women’s  incessant 
toil — No  special  harvest-time— Maize  the  only  grain  grown — No  use 
for  sugar — Manioc  cultivation — Peppers — Tobacco — Coca  cultivation 
— Tree-climbing  methods — Indian  wood-craft — Indian  tracking — Ex- 
aggerated sporting  yarns — Indian  sense  of  locality  and  accuracy  of 
observation — Blow -pipes — Method  of  making  blow -pipes — Darts — 
Indian  improvidence — Migration  of  game — Traps  and  snares — 
Javelins — Hunting  and  fishing  rights — Fishing — Fish  traps — Spearing 
and  poisoning  fish. 


Apart  from  the  industries  already  dealt  with,  the  occupa- 
tions of  the  South  American  Indians  of  these  parts  consist 
in  agricultural  pursuits,  hunting,  fishing,  making  war,  and 
holding  festival.  They  are  not  a pastoral  people  and 
have  no  cattle  ; even  the  domestic  pig  is  unknown,  fowls 
are  never  seen,  and  dogs  only  exist  in  their  wild  state  in 
the  forest.  There  they  are  numerous  enough,  dun  in 
colour,  with  ears  erect.  These  Indians  do  not  keep  or 
train  them,  though  some  of  the  tribes  away  from  this 
district  have  hunting  dogs.1 

The  greater  part  of  the  agricultural  work  falls,  as  has 
been  seen,  to  the  lot  of  the  women,  though  the  preliminaries 
— the  heavier  work  of  clearing,  cutting,  and  breaking  up  the 
untouched  soil — are  undertaken  by  the  men.  Each  tribal 
house  stands  in  the  midst  of  a small  clearing.  In  front  is 
the  big  dancing  ground,  for  though  the  dancing  proper  takes 
place  inside  the  maloka,  this  outer  dance  clearing  is  used 
for  the  purpose  of  assembly,  and  for  effective  entries. 
Near  by  are  the  cultivated  plots  that  belong  to  the  chief. 
The  Indian  with  his  own  private  lodging  in  the  bush,  or 

1 For  example,  the  Zaparo  (Simson,  pp.  169,  295)  ; the  Uaupes  Indians 
(Wallace,  p.  349). 


102 


PLATE  XXVI. 


I.  INDIAN  PLANTATION  CLEARED  BY  FIRE  PREPARATORY  TO 
CULTIVATION 


2.  VIEW  ON  AFFLUENT  OF  THE  KAHUINARI  RIVER 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


103 


any  married  Indian, — and  all  marry  when  they  come  to 
man’s  estate — has  his  special  plantation  patch  by  his 
country-house,  if  he  has  one,  somewhere  in  the  neighbour- 
hood of  the  tribal  house  if  he  is  content  with  only  his  quarters 
therein.  But  no  plantations  are  made  actually  surrounding 
the  maloka ; they  are  perhaps  half  a mile  away,  for,  as  a 
rule,  the  house  stands  alone.  Sometimes  a man’s  planta- 
tion will  be  two  days’  journey  from  the  house  of  assembly, 
in  which  case  a “ country-house  ” is  a necessity.  The  tribal 
plantations  belong  to  the  chief,  as  he,  having  all  the  un- 
attached women,  is  better  able  to  cultivate  them. 

To  prepare  the  plots  of  ground  the  smaller  trees  are 
felled,  the  larger  ones  are  burnt.  The  stumps  of  trees,  cut 
about  four  feet  above  the  ground,  decay  with  some  rapidity, 
and,  directly  the  branches  are  dry  enough  to  burn,  fire  is 
brought  out  and  the  clearing  made  into  a gigantic  bonfire, 
or  rather  series  of  bonfires,  for  the  always  damp  wood  will 
never  do  more  than  smoulder,  but  it  is  sufficient  to  destroy 
the  brushwood  and  the  tangle  of  creeping  plants.  There  is 
then  a savannah,  a clearing  such  as  is  shown  in  the  illustration 
(Plate  XXVI.),  a wilderness  of  charred  posts  and  vegetable 
ashes  which  make  most  excellent  manure.  The  ground  is 
then  broken  up  with  wooden  clubs,  and  therewith  the  men’s 
labour  is  at  an  end.1  Henceforward  their  women  take 
charge  of  the  plantation — ike  the  Witoto  call  it  before  it  is 
planted  ; it  is  akpho  after  planting. 

The  Indian  plantation  is  no  orderly  market-garden.  To 
begin  with,  the  women  have  nothing  but  the  roughest  wooden 
implement,  a wedge-shaped  stake,  with  which  to  dig,  and 
rake,  and  hoe.  The  ground  is  always  uneven  and  broken  ; 
the  charred  remnants  of  the  original  vegetation  are  left  to 
crumble  beside  the  young  growth,  and  the  cultivated  seed- 
lings have  to  struggle  for  space  and  air  with  quick-growing 
wild  things,  forest  growths  and  creepers  that  encroach  on 
every  side,  and  would  speedily  reclaim  any  cleared  portions 
of  the  unconquerable  bush  were  it  not  for  the  incessant 
diligence  of  the  women.  They  go  there  daily  straight  from 

1 Among  other  tribes  this  is  not  always  the  case.  Manioc  and  banana 
cultivation  with  the  Rucuyens  is  carried  on  by  the  men  (Ratzel,  ii.  128). 


104  THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 

the  morning  bath,  and  keep  up  a constant  chattering  as 
they  plant  the  cuttings  of  manioc,  or  tend  to  the  pine-apples 
and  the  sugar-cane,  while  the  men  take  to  their  canoes, 
or  go  a-hunting  in  the  bush  in  company.  I have  never 
seen  single  Indians  hunting  or  walking  in  the  forest.  For 
obvious  reasons  they  never  venture  far  afield  by  themselves, 
or  even  in  very  small  parties. 

Sowing  is  done  during  the  rainy  season,  but  beyond  the 
fact  that  things  then  grow  faster  than  when  it  is  compara- 
tively drier,  there  is  no  especial  harvest  time.  Crops  grow 
and  ripen  all  the  year  round.  The  Indians  are  not  grain- 
growing  people.  Rice  is  unknown,1  and  the  only  grain 
that  is  sown  at  all  is  maize.  This,  though  much  cultivated 
by  the  Kuretu,  and  by  tribes  on  the  Tikie,  is  not  grown 
in  any  quantity  by  Indians  south  of  the  Japura.  What 
there  may  be  is  very  small.  Coca,  manioc,  and  tobacco 
are  the  most  universally  cultivated.  The  Witoto  grow 
a little  sugar-cane  and  it  is  occasionally  found  growing 
wild,  but  in  very  few  places.  Originally,  I imagine,  it 
was  imported.  The  Indians  do  not  use  it  for  sugar,  as 
sweet  things  do  not  seem  to  appeal  to  their  palates,  and 
" beer  ” is  unknown.  Half-wild  pumpkins  and  plantains 
are  to  be  found  in  most  plantations ; pines,2  bananas, 
yams,  papaws,  sweet  potatoes,  and  mangoes  are  found 
cultivated  more  or  less.  The  yellow  fruit  of  the  guarana 
is  prized  by  these  Indians,  especially  the  Boro,  and  is  used 
here  by  them  in  the  preparation  of  a stimulating  drink3 
similar  to  that  in  use  on  the  Rio  Negro.4  The  wild  cacao,5 
though  not  common,  is  seen  about  here,  but  the  tribes  do 
not  cultivate  it.  Manioc,  which  is  also  known  as  cassava,6 
is  a plant  that  grows  throughout  the  tropical  regions  of 
America,  and  in  the  West  Indies.  It  is  known  also  in 

1 There  is  a wild  species  on  some  of  the  rivers,  but  the  Indians  make 
no  use  of  it  (cf.  Bates,  i.  194). 

2 Anauana  saliva  (Wallace,  p.  336).  8 Spruce,  i.  180-81. 

4 Among  the  Issa- Japura  tribes  it  is  rather  sustaining  than  stimulating, 
i.e.  it  is  not  fermented. 

6 Theobroma,  the  food  of  the  gods  (Spruce,  i.  79). 

6 I would  suggest  that  manioc  is  the  true  name  for  the  plant,  cassava 
for  the  “ bread  ” made  therefrom.  Mandiocca  is  only  American-Spanish 
for  manioc. 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS  105 

Africa,  and  has  been  introduced  by  the  white  man  into 
some  of  the  Pacific  Islands. 

The  manioc  is  planted  by  the  women  about  July  or 
August,  and  according  to  Indian  belief  manioc  can  only  be 
propagated  by  replanting  slips  of  the  old  growth  after  it 
has  been  lifted  up  and  the  tuberous  root  removed.  As  it 
cannot  reproduce  itself  in  this  fashion  in  its  wild  state, 
presumably  it  will  grow  from  young  tubers,  or  seed,  but, 
according  to  Bates,  it  is  not  found  wild  in  the  Amazon  basin.1 
The  ground  is  hoed  by  the  women,  and  scraped  into  rough 
furrows.  Cuttings  of  the  manioc  plant  are  set  in  these  in 
little  holes.  Eight  months  after  planting  the  root  is  ready 
for  use.  It  is  large,  fleshy,  and  very  heavy  for  its  bulk, 
each  tuber  weighing  from  half  a pound  to  two  or  three 
pounds,  and  even  more.  It  has  been  said  of  the  variety 
known  as  the  great  manioc  that  a root  will  weigh  as  much 
as  forty-eight  pounds.2  The  ground  will  only  carry  two 
crops,  so  a fresh  patch  must  be  broken  up  after  the  second 
harvest.  Indians  will,  however,  always  return  to  planta- 
tions no  longer  in  use,  on  account  of  the  different  palm 
fruits  which  continue  to  grow  wild  there  after  they  have 
once  been  cultivated ; but  the  disused  plots  will  never 
be  tilled  again  for  plantation,  they  are  only  visited  for  this 
purpose  of  securing  the  fruit. 

Throughout  the  forest  peppers  are  very  common  and 
plentiful.  Some  of  the  bushes  grow  to  a height  of  ten 
feet.  There  are  many  varieties,3  and  peppers  are  grown, 
or  allowed  to  grow,  in  patches  on  all  the  plantations. 

I have  said  that  the  women  are  the  agriculturalists  and 
the  cooks  ; nor  do  I know  of  any  exception  to  this  rule, 
for  though  coca  and  tobacco  are  tabu  to  all  women,  and 
their  preparation  is  forbidden  to  the  sex,  yet  the  women 
grow  the  tobacco  in  the  plantations,  gather  the  leaf, 
and  dry  it  in  the  sun.  But  the  actual  making  of  the  black 
liquid  is  done  by  the  men  alone,  and  only  men  prepare  the 
coca  for  use.  Tobacco  is  not  an  article  of  barter  among 

1 Bates  i.  194,  n.  2 Spruce,  i.  215. 

3 Capsicum  frutescens  (Spix  and  Martius,  p.  259).  Artanthe  eximia  and 

other  Artanthe  and  Peperomia  (Spruce,  ii.  283-4). 


106  THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 

these  tribes,  as  all  grow  it,  and  its  preparation  is  no  secret 
to  any  of  the  tribesmen.  Cultivated  coca  is  sown  when 
the  rains  begin.  The  young  seedlings  need  both  care  and 
attention.1  It  is  eighteen  months  before  the  slender  shrub 
will  yield  any  harvest,  though  once  grown  the  supply  will 
continue  for  three  or  four  decades.  The  shrub  grows  to 
some  five  or  six  feet  high,  into  small  trees  in  fact,  with 
lichen-encrusted  trunks.  Both  the  common  kind  and  a 
smaller-leaved  variety 2 grow  wild  in  these  regions. 

Men  also  must  climb  the  trees  to  gather  such  fruits  as 
the  papaw  and  the  seeds  of  the  cokerite  or  the  peach  palms. 
Indians  climb  in  what  is  practically  a universal  method, 
with  a circling  rope  and  a ring.3  Their  usual  way  is  to 
secure  the  legs  together  about  the  ankles  with  a strip  of 
the  inner  bark  of  a tree,  and  then,  with  arms  and  feet  free, 
to  use  a bigger  loop  adjusted  round  the  tree  and  hips  of 
the  climber  for  purchase  power.  For  short  climbs  they  will 
dispense  with  the  bigger  loop.  Sometimes  palm-frond  is 
made  into  a ring  for  the  toes,  but  with  the  forest  Indians 
these  are  oftener  left  free  to  allow  of  prehensile  action. 
With  this  simple  attachment,  made  perhaps  only  of  twisted 
liana,  the  native  will  work  his  way  to  a perilous  height  up 
the  barest  of  tree  trunks.4 

As  a woodsman  the  Indian  is  so  far  in  advance  of  the 
European  traveller  as  to  make  all  comparison  futile.5  An 
Indian  in  the  bush  is  wonderful.  From  his  earliest  days 
he  has  been  taught  to  watch  and  note.  I have  known  an 
Indian  stop  and  tell  me  that  when  the  sun  was  in  a certain 

1 For  processes  of  growing  and  preparation,  see  Markham,  pp.  148-9. 

2 Erythroxylon  coca  and  E.  cataractarum  (Spruce,  ii.  446-8). 

3 Cf.  E.  B.  Tylor,  p.  170. 

4 An  illustration  in  Sir  H.  Johnston’s  Liberia,  ii.  406,  shows  a West 
African  native  climbing  with  only  one  ring  and  both  arms  and  ankles  free. 
Bates  mentions  an  Indian  climbing  with  only  one  ring  used  for  the  feet 
(Bates,  ii.  196).  The  same  method  is  to  be  found  in  Ceylon,  among  the 
Malays,  etc.  (cf.  Skeat  and  Blagden,  i.  51,  62,  85  ; Tennant,  Ceylon,  ii.  523 ; 
Partridge,  Cross  River  Natives,  p.  150,  etc.). 

6 This  is  no  uncommon  thing  among  peoples  of  lower  culture,  but 
that  it  does  not  of  necessity  follow  as  a corollary  to  life  in  the  bush  is  proved 
by  some  of  the  West  African  tribes  who  are  most  indifferent  sportsmen. 
This  is  the  case  among  sundry  of  the  peoples  of  the  Northern  Territories 
of  the  Gold  Coast,  where  a British  official  has  before  now  had  to  train  his 
shikari,  if  he  hoped  for  successful  sport. 


PLATE  XXVII 


ERYTHROXYLON— COCA 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


107 


position,  that  is  to  say  half  an  hour  previously,  seven 
Indians  passed  that  way  carrying  a tapir,  which  had  been 
killed  when  the  sun  was  there — indicating  another  position. 
It  was  killed  a long  distance  away,  and  the  bag  must  have 
been  a tapir  on  account  of  the  evident  weight.  He  took 
up  a leaf  on  which  was  a spot  of  blood,  coagulated.  He 
pointed  to  tracks  on  the  ground,  to  prove  the  question  of 
numbers  and  distance.  The  men  who  passed  were  weary, 
he  knew  it  by  the  way  their  toes  had  dropped  on  the  ground. 
The  breaking  of  a twig,  the  exudation  of  sap,  is  enough  of 
a guide  for  the  Indian  to  judge  when  the  last  passer-by  came 
that  way.  I have  been  told  it  was  within  ten  minutes,  and 
shown  a leaf.  It  had  begun  to  rain  ten  minutes  before, 
and  the  leaf,  overturned  by  a passing  foot,  was  wet  upon 
both  sides.  A glance  will  suffice  for  an  estimate  of  what 
animals  passed,  and  when.  By  some  intuitive  perception, 
moreover,  he  will  deduce  in  a moment  whither  the  game 
has  gone,  and  will  make,  not  along  its  trail,  but  more  directly 
for  it.  Yet  close  and  accurate  as  his  observation  invariably 
is,  when  the  Indian  sportsman  begins  a tale  of  the  chase 
it  is  exaggerated  beyond  the  wildest  dreams  and  liveliest 
imaginings  of  the  most  gifted  sporting  Munchausen  among 
ourselves. 

When  an  Indian  is  path-finding  he  judges  both  time  and 
distance  by  the  sun.  If  not  attacked  by  an  enemy,  he  will 
win  his  way  home  from  anywhere,  always  at  a jog-trot,  and 
will  probably  do  his  fifty  miles  on  nothing  more  sustaining 
than  coca.  A sense  of  locality  is  bom  in  him,  and  from 
childhood  upwards  this  is  trained  and  developed  by  con- 
tinued and  varied  experiences.  To  be  able  to  judge  by  the 
sky,  by  the  weathered  side  of  trees,  by  the  flight  of  birds, 
or  the  ran  of  animals — above  all  to  have  a sense  that  is 
greater  than  all  judgment — is  a matter  of  life  or  death 
not  once  but  continually.  The  inept  are  the  unfit,  and 
the  forest  will  show  them  no  mercy. 

This  minuteness  and  accuracy  of  observation  comes  into 
play  again  when  the  Indian  is  hunting.  Death  to  his 
quarry  from  the  tiny  poisoned  dart  of  the  blow-pipe  is 
certain,  but  not  absolutely  instantaneous.  He  also  will 


io8 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


shoot  birds  with  a blunt-headed  arrow  that  stuns  but  does 
no  damage  to  the  plumage.  The  shock  appears  to  kill  the 
bird.  Hit  with  dart  or  arrow  they  may  flutter  a little 
distance  before  they  fall.  I have  watched  an  Indian  scores 
of  times  when  hunting  game  shoot  bird  after  bird  in  a tree, 
mark  down  where  each  fell,  and  eventually  never  fail  to 
account  for  every  one  despite  the  density  of  the  surrounding 
bush.  Hardly  a traveller  but  has  noted  and  wondered  at 
the  same  thing. 

Blow-pipes  are  only  carried  by  the  Indians  when  hunt- 
ing. They  are  weapons  of  the  chase,  not  of  war.  Most  of 
the  tribes  manufacture  their  own,  but  the  Bara,  who  neither 
hunt  nor  fish,  get  theirs  solely  by  barter  from  other  tribes. 
The  blow-pipe — obidiake  of  the  Witoto,  dodike  of  the  Boro — 
made  by  these  tribes  is  a heavier  weapon  than  those  made 
by  tribes  farther  north.1  It  is  constructed,  like  those  of  all 
tribes  south  of  the  Japura,  in  two  sections,  bound  together 
with  great  nicety,  and  has  invariably  a mouthpiece  made  of 
vegetable  ivory  or  a similar  wood  that  fits  round  inside  the 
mouth.  These  blow-pipes  are  from  eight  to  fourteen  feet 
long,  with  a quarter-inch  tube,  the  outer  mouthpiece  being  an 
inch  and  a half.  They  are  sometimes  made  from  reeds 2 by 
the  Boro  and  Andoke,  and  I have  seen  small  Boro  boys  with 
a hollow  reed  pipe,  about  half  the  ordinary  length.  This  was 
merely  a plaything.  These  are  the  simplest  form  of  blow- 
pipe, and  would  appear  to  be  the  original  type.  Though  I 
imagine  reeds  are  always  obtainable,  for  the  flora  did  not 
seem  to  vary,  as  a rule  the  wood  of  the  chonta  palm  is 
employed.3  On  the  north  of  the  Japura,  the  tribes,  I 
believe,  mostly  make  their  blow-pipes  of  palm  stems.4  Two 

1 The  blow-pipe,  the  gravitana  in  lingoa-geral,  is  known  as  the  zarabatana 
among  the  Teffe  tribes  (Bates,  ii.  236) ; the  bodoquera  on  the  Napo.  Koch- 
Grunberg  gives  the  following  names  for  it : todike,  Imitrita  Miranya  ; 
uataha,  Yavitero ; uilipona,  Uarekena ; uapana,  Yukuna ; Mauipi, 
Katapolitani  ; mauipi  or  moipi,  Siusi ; mauipi  or  mauipi,  Tariana  (Aruak- 
Sprachen,  p.  73). 

8 A species  of  Arundinaria.  * Bactus  ciliata. 

4 The  wood  used  is  paxiaba-i,  the  Iriartea  setigera  (Spruce,  ii.  522).  This 
small  palm  grows  from  ten  to  fifteen  feet  high,  with  a stem  of  an  inch  to 
two  inches  in  diameter.  When  dry  the  soft  inner  pith  is  removed,  and  the 
bore  polished  with  a bunch  of  tree-fern  roots  pulled  up  and  down  (Wallace, 
p.  147). 


PLATE  XXVIII. 


1 & 2.— Andoke  bamboo  cases  with  darts  and 
cotton 

3.  Dart  with  cotton  attached 
t-  Blowpipe  with  dart 
5-  Javelins 
6.  Fishing  trident 
7 Spears  in  bamboo  case 
S.  Dance  Stafi 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS  109 

long  strips  of  this  wood  are  slit  off  by  notching  and  levering 
with  a stone  axe,  as  already  described.  The  chonta  poles 
are  trimmed,  nibbed,  and  grooved  with  sand  and  a paca- 
tooth  tool  till  they  form  the  corresponding  halves  of  a tube, 
which  must  fit  most  exactly.  All  this  entails  very  careful 
and  tedious  work,  so  it  is  fortunate  that  time  to  an  Indian 
is  of  no  account.  These  half  tubes  are  then  fastened 
together  and  the  bore  polished  with  what  is  practically 
sand-paper.  A string  is  dipped  in  some  gummy  substance, 
and  then  covered  with  sand.  When  dry,  a fine  polish  is 
secured  with  this  by  friction.  The  blow-pipe  is  next  bound 
from  end  to  end  with  fibre-string,  or  narrow  strips  of  pliant 
bark.1  The  whole  pipe  is  then  coated  with  some  resinous 
gum,  or  wax.2  A small  bone  is  fixed  about  twelve  inches 
from  the  mouthpiece,  and  this  acts  as  a sight.  Such  a tube 
will  send  an  arrow  a distance  of  from  forty  to  one  hundred 
and  fifty  feet,  and  an  expert  hunter  shoots  the  smallest 
birds  at  twenty  yards.  The  chonta  - wood  pipe  is  the 
heaviest  and  most  lasting,  but  I do  not  know  if  it  carries 
farthest.  The  Indians’  accuracy  of  aim  is  extraordinary. 
The  arrows,  or  darts,  are  about  nine  inches  long,  no  thicker 
than  a small  match,  and  are  tufted  with  fluffy  down  from 
the  seed  vessels  of  the  silk-cotton  tree,3  the  tuft  being  of  a 
size  to  fit  exactly  into  the  bore  of  the  pipe.  The  arrows  are 
made  of  the  leaf-stem  spines  of  the  Patawa  palm.4  They  are 
carried  in  a quiver  of  bamboo  lined  with  dried  grass  or  fine 
rushes  that  protect  the  delicate  darts.  The  poisoned  points 
are  partly  cut  through  so  that  they  break  off  in  the  wound. 
Once  a bird  or  animal  is  hit  the  poison  kills  them  very 
speedily.  The  silk-cotton  for  tipping  the  arrow  is  carried 
in  a gourd  that  is  attached  to  the  arrow  quiver  with  strips 
of  cane,  and  to  it  is  also  tied  the  jawbone  of  the  pirai  fish, 
which  is  used  as  a file  for  the  points  of  the  darts.  When 
the  arrow  is  ejected  from  the  blow- pipe  there  is  a slight  noise, 

1 Jacitara  (Bates,  ii.  236). 

2 From  the  arbol-del-lacre  (Hardenberg,  Man,  p.  136)  ; Pao-de-lacre, 
Vismia  guianensis  (Spruce,  ii.  522). 

3 Bombax  (Wallace,  p.  147);  Eriodendron  sp.  (Sterculiaceae) , (Spruce,  ii. 
523  ; Bates,  ii.  237). 

1 Oenocarpus  Batawa  (Spruce,  ii.  522). 


no  THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 

like  a child’s  pop-gun,  but  it  is  not  enough  to  scare  the 
game.1 

Indians  are  no  more  provident  as  hunters  than  as  house- 
keepers. When  game  is  plentiful  they  will  kill  and  eat,  kill 
recklessly,  and  eat  to  repletion.  But  game  is  not  always 
plentiful.  It  may  abound  to-day  and  all  be  gone  to-morrow. 
Even  parrots  and  peccary  will  fail  at  times.  Birds  and 
beasts  wander,  and  though  the  hunter  can  often  judge  of 
direction  through  knowledge  of  their  habits,  and — what  in 
this  instance  probably  governs  them  — which  fruits  are 
ripest  and  where  most  abundantly  to  be  found,  this  will 
not  altogether  account  for  the  fluctuations  in  the  supply  of 
game.  It  must  also  be  remembered  that  in  this  respect 
the  bush  varies  greatly,  and  even  where  animal  life  is  not 
scarce  it  is  apt  to  become  so  on  the  advent  of  man.  Even 
apart  from  the  disturbance  caused  by  the  hunter,  game  in 
the  vicinity  of  any  human  settlement  tends  to  disappear. 
The  hunter  must  go  farther  and  farther  afield. 

The  Indian  is  an  expert  trapper.  His  traps  though 
simple  are  ingeniously  contrived,  and  seldom  fail  to  act. 
An  empty  bag  is  due  more  frequently  to  absence  of  game 
than  to  the  inadequate  plan  of  the  trap.  Monkeys  are 
caught  with  a running-noose  loop  snare  made  of  liana, 
which  is  adjusted  carefully  along  a fruit-bearing  branch  of 
a tree.  Any  monkey  attempting  to  reach  the  fruit  strangles 
itself  in  the  noose,  exactly  as  a rabbit  does  in  the  wire  of 
an  English  poacher. 

A shallow  pan  of  water  is  the  Indian  bait  for  ground 
vermin.  Round  it  they  dig  a ring  of  holes,  about  a foot 
across,  on  which  are  lightly  spread  grass  and  leaves.  Rats, 
mice,  frogs,  and  small  snakes  venturing  to  drink  fall  through 

1 These  blow-pipes  appear  to  be  similar  to  those  still  in  use  among  the 
Orang  Kuantan  Malays,  of  which  a specimen  is  to  be  seen  in  the  British 
Museum.  It  is  made  of  two  grooved  halves  of  a hard  wood,  bound  with 
cane,  and  coated  with  " a gutta-like  substance  ” (Skeat,  Man,  1902,  No. 
108).  This  is,  however,  a shorter  instrument  than  the  Witoto  or  Boro 
use,  the  measurements  given  being  only  5 feet  2 inches  for  total  length, 
with  an  interior  diameter  of  seven-sixteenths  of  an  inch  at  the  mouthpiece 
and  three-eighths  of  an  inch  at  the  muzzle-end.  The  blow-pipe  is  found 
among  all  Malayan  tribes.  For  distribution  in  the  South  Seas,  cf.  map  in 
Skeat  and  Blagden’s  Pagan  Tribes,  i.  254. 


PLATE  XXIX. 


ANDOKE  BAMBOO  CASE  WITH  DARTS  FOR  BLOWPIPE 
AND  GOURD  FULL  OF  COTTON 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


hi 


into  the  holes  that  are  deep  enough  to  hold  them  captive 
till  the  trapper  comes  round  and  secures  his  catch.  For 
larger  animals  the  hunters  dig  a line  of  pits,  with  a sharpened 
stake  fixed  upright  at  the  bottom  of  each.  The  game, 
corralled  and  driven  over  these,  falls  in  through  the  sticks 
and  leaves  that  hide  the  opening,  and  is  impaled  on  the 
stake.  The  Karahone  arm  their  pits  with  poisoned  arrows, 
and  dig  a succession  of  these  death-traps  down  a forest 
avenue.1  A more  complex  contrivance  is  made  with  care- 
fully poised  logs.  This  description  of  trap  is  set  in  a forest 
run,  the  brushwood  on  either  side  is  twisted  and  plaited  into 
a rough  fence,  and  the  trap  erected  in  the  opening.  The 
slightest  pressure  on  the  footboard  releases  the  weight,  and 
brings  the  heavy  trunk  down  with  a crash  on  the  intruder. 
A trap  of  this  kind  will  catch  anything  from  a squirrel  to 
a jaguar. 

A tapir  is  sometimes  killed  with  a throwing  javelin, 
which  the  Indians  use  with  much  dexterity,  though  when 
they  throw  anything  they  do  it  with  an  over- arm  action, 
with  a jerk  as  a girl  would.  Their  skill  with  these  javelins 
is  not  surprising  when  one  remembers  that  they  hunt  two 
or  three  days  a week  from  boyhood,  and  so  are  continually 
throwing  them  at  animals.  The  javelin  is  a light  spear 
with  a poisoned  palm  spine  at  the  point.  A man  carries 
seven  of  these  in  his  hand,  and  seven  more  in  reserve  in  a 
bamboo  case — fourteen  in  all.  These  javelins  are  about 
six  feet  long,  and  an  Indian  can  throw  one  a distance  of 
thirty  yards.  Sometimes  only  five  are  carried  in  the  hand, 
but  seven  is  the  more  usual  number.  Though  long  they 
are  very  thin  and  light.  The  haft  is  usually  made  of  chonta, 
or  similar  hard  straight-grained  woods.  A spine  is  always 
fixed  in  the  point,  which  is  filed  almost  through  so  that  it 
will  break  off  in  the  body  of  the  wounded  animal.  These 
spines  are  poisoned  with  animal  putrefying  poison.  Of 
the  heavier  spears  more  anon. 

Koch-Griinberg  noted  that  tribes  on  the  Tikie  have  well- 

1 Deniker  states  that  the  Miranha  hunt  " like  the  ancient  Quechuas 
by  means  of  nets  stretched  out  between  the  trees,  into  which  they  drive, 
with  cries  and  gestures,  the  terrified  animals”  (Deniker,  p.  561).  I have 
never  seen  or  heard  of  such  nets  among  them. 


112 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


defined  and  recognised  hunting  and  fishing  rights,  but  that 
when  travelling  any  such  rights  are  avoided.  This  is  common 
to  all  Indians.  They  will  even  erect  barriers  in  the  bush 
and  on  the  rivers,  and  they  keep  strictly  to  their  own 
localities,  otherwise  quarrels  would  arise  and  war  be  the 
upshot. 

The  sporting  proclivities  of  the  tribes  vary  considerably. 
The  Tukana  are  fishers,  but  not  hunters.  The  Boro,  on  the 
other  hand,  though  great  hunters  do  not  fish,  at  least  I do 
not  remember  ever  having  been  given  fish  in  a Boro 
house.  Certainly  they  are  not  such  fishermen  as  the 
Witoto  or  the  Okaina,  who  are  the  most  skilful  of  all  the 
fishing  tribes. 

Fish  are  taken  with  hook  and  line,  in  nets  and  traps, 
by  poisoning  the  water,  by  spearing,  and  by  shooting  with 
bows  and  arrows.  For  fish-hooks  these  tribes  have  hardly 
anything  but  those  that  they  contrive  for  themselves  from 
wood,  bone,  or  spines,  and  civilised  metal  hooks  are  greatly 
sought  after  by  all  of  them.  Napo  Indians  make  hooks  of 
bone.1  The  Witoto  fakwasi  is  a fish-hook  made  of  wood  or 
palm  spine.  A spine  is  fastened  to  a fine  stick,  and  this  is 
baited  with  grubs,  and  used  with  a fibre  line,  or  with  a 
pihekoa,  a rod  and  a line.  Fish  are  caught  to  some  extent 
with  bait  and  laid  lines. 

Hand  nets  are  made  of  chambiri  palm-fibre  in  the  same 
way  that  hammocks  are  made,  but  with  a finer  mesh  ; 
larger  ones  are  constructed  by  fixing  fences  of  wattle  across 
the  stream  before  the  rivers  rise.  In  the  dry  season  the 
Witoto  use  nets  to  drag  the  pools  in  the  river-bed.  They 
also  catch  fish  with  baited  nets,  the  bait  being  larvae,  or 
some  fruit  attractive  to  fish,  such  as  that  of  the  setico,  or 
the  drupes  of  certain  laurels.  In  the  dry  season  they  bale 
out  the  water  from  the  shallower  pools  with  gourds  till 
the  fish  can  be  captured  by  hand. 

Some  of  the  fish  traps  are  most  cleverly  designed.  There 
is  one  known  on  the  Uaupes  as  the  matapi,  which  is  simply 
a basket  open  at  one  end,  but  without  sufficient  space  for 
fish  of  any  size  to  turn  round  in.  As  fish  are  not  able  to 

1 Orton,  pp.  169-70. 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


ii3 

swim  backwards  without  the  room  to  turn  they  cannot 
escape  once  in  the  trap.  On  the  Napo  the  Indians  spear 
fish  most  expertly,  but  other  Indians  depend  largely  on 
these  and  similar  traps  for  their  supply. 

Fish  are  speared  with  a wooden  trident  or,  rather,  caught 
between  its  prongs,  or  stabbed  with  a bamboo  spear  that 
has  a double-edged  blade.  Some  of  the  civilised  Indians 
of  the  lower  Amazons  have  harpoons  with  detachable  heads 
that  they  use  for  hunting  the  manatee,  or  river  dolphin, 
but,  in  these  upper  waters,  dolphins,  if  seen, — and  that  is 
rarely  — are  speared  with  tridents ; the  Indians  have  no 
harpoons,  and  the  only  thing  that  resembles  a detachable 
head  is  the  partly  filed- through  javelin.  The  Menimehe 
shoot  fish  with  the  bow  and  arrow. 

By  far  the  most  wholesale  and  general  way  in  which  fish 
are  obtained  is  through  the  use  of  poison.1  The  Indians 
procure  this  from  the  root  of  an  evergreen  bush,  the  babasco,2 
which  they  pound  very  fine.  They  dam  the  stream  with  a 
wattle  fencing  and  then  throw  the  mashed  babasco  in  above 
this  fish  weir.  The  fish  frequently  jump  out  of  the  water, 
gasping  as  though  they  were  being  strangled,  and  the 
Indians  secure  those  distressed  fish  in  outspread  palm  leaves. 
Sometimes  the  dead  fish  drop  down  into  a net,  spread  beside 
the  dam  to  catch  them  ; or  the  Indian  fisherman  will 
simply  spear  them  when  they  are  sufficiently  narcotised. 
Dead  fish  will  be  found  floating  in  the  vicinity  many  hours 
afterwards.  The  Napo  Indians  put  the  crushed  babasco  in 
a basket  and  stir  the  water  with  this  below  the  dam — so 
that  the  fish  cannot  escape  upstream.3  Witoto  and  other 
Issa -Japura  tribes  merely  throw  the  roots  into  the  stream, 
and  the  dam  is  made  more  to  prevent  the  dead  fish  being 
washed  away  than  to  stop  the  live  ones  escaping.  The 
poison  works  almost  instantaneously  on  the  smaller  fish. 
The  Indians  on  the  Tapajos  make  use  of  a poisonous  liana 

1 Cf.  method  of  poisoning  adopted  by  natives  of  Torres  Straits 
(Torres  Straits,  iv.  159). 

2 Jacquinia  armillaris.  According  to  Spix  and  Martius  babasco  poison 
is  made  from  the  leaves  and  blossom  of  the  Budleya  connata  (Spix  and  von 
Martius,  Reise,  1820,  p.  98). 

3 Simson,  p.  131. 


I 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


1 14 

called  timbo.1  Its  action  is  similar  though  not  so  immediate 
as  that  of  the  babasco  root,  and  consequently  it  is  of  little 
use  in  quick -flowing  waters.  Neither  babasco  nor  timbo 
affect  the  fish  injuriously  for  human  food. 

1 Paullinia  pinnata  (Sapindaceae)  (Spruce,  ii.  523  ; Bates,  ii.  82-3). 
Spruce  also  mentions  cunambi,  poison  obtained  from  the  roots  of  Ichthyo- 
thera  cunambi  (Spruce,  ii.  520) ; and  Yuca-raton,  the  root  of  Glincidiae  sp. 
(Spruce,  ii.  455). 


CHAPTER  VIII 


The  Indian  armoury — Spears — Bows  and  arrows — Indian  strategy — Forest 
tactics  and  warfare — Defensive  measures— Secrecy  and  safety — The 
Indian’s  science  of  war — Prisoners — War  and  anthropophagy — Canni- 
bal tribes — Reasons  for  cannibal  practices — Ritual  of  vengeance — 
Other  causes — No  intra  - tribal  cannibalism — The  anthropophagous 
feast — Human  relics — Necklaces  of  teeth — Absence  of  salt — Geo- 
phagy. 

The  armoury  of  the  Indian  contains,  for  the  most  part, 
weapons  designed  for  primitive  hand-to-hand  encounter 
with  either  man  or  beast.  The  sixty  or  more  feet  a blow- 
pipe dart  will  carry ; the  two  hundred  feet,  which  is  the 
outside  range  of  an  arrow  from  the  most  powerful  of  his 
bows,  would  be  futile  in  any  country  less  enclosed  than 
these  dense  woodlands.  Even  here  success  in  intertribal 
conflict  is  a matter  of  personal  dexterity  rather  than 
mechanical  accomplishment.  It  is  true  that  the  Witoto 
near  the  rubber  districts  have  ordinary  muzzle-loading 
scatter-guns.  Other  tribes  have  a few,  a very  few  rifles, 
and  some  Brummagem  fowling-pieces,  usually  with  single 
barrels.  But  the  rifle  cannot  be  said  to  have  won  its  way 
into  unchallenged  favour.  When  an  Indian  does  possess  a 
gun  he  is  exceedingly  chary  of  using  it  ; his  chief  idea  is  to 
save  his  powder  and  shot.  The  Menimehe  have  neither 
rifles  nor  scatter-guns  ; they  consider  that  firearms  frighten 
the  game,  and  prefer  their  own  throwing  - javelins,  their 
bows,  and  their  arrows. 

The  Indian  weapons  of  offence  may  be  said  then  to 
consist  of  the  sword,  the  bow,  and  the  spear.  There  is  no 
difference  between  war  spears  and  arrows  and  those  used 
against  the  larger  wild  animals.  For  defence  the  Menimehe 
carry  a small  club,  or  life-preserver,  and  the  Jivaro  and 

ii  5 


n6 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


some  of  the  tribes  near  the  Napo  river,  use  a circular  shield 
covered  with  tapir  hide  like  the  Uaupes  river  Indians.1 
The  Menimehe  also  have  large  round  shields  made  with 
tapir  skins.  From  two  to  five  hides  are  superimposed  one 
on  the  other  to  make  a shield,  and  when  finished  these  will 
turn  any  arrow  or  spear,  and  are  impenetrable  to  other  than 
a nickel-cased  bullet  of  high  velocity.  The  Yahuna  on  the 
other  side  of  the  Apaporis  do  not  use  a shield,  nor  do  any  of 
the  tribes  south  of  the  Japura. 

The  Indian’s  club  is  like  a quarter-staff  made  of  hard 
red-wood — which  is  the  heaviest  kind  known  to  them — 
and  is  used  simply  as  a personal  weapon  of  offence  or 
defence.  It  is  not  a war  weapon.  The  Indian  sword  is 
made  of  red-wood  or  black  iron-wood,  and  is  from  thirty  to 
thirty-six  inches  long,  polished  quite  plainly.  It  is  used  by 
the  attacker  to  aim  blows  at  the  thighs  of  his  antagonist, 
the  object  being  so  to  hit  him  as  to  bring  him  to  the  ground. 
Once  this  is  done  his  head  can  be  easily  smashed.  As  a 
weapon  of  defence  the  Indian  uses  it  to  protect  himself 
from  the  throwing  of  javelins.  Holding  the  handle  in  one 
hand  and  the  point  in  the  other,  he  can  ward  off  such  missiles 
with  the  greatest  dexterity,  thus  in  a way  obviating  the 
necessity  of  carrying  a shield. 

A diversity  of  spears,  or  javelins,  is  constructed  by  all 
these  tribes.  Chonta  wood  is  universally  employed  for 
spears  and  arrow-heads,  the  weapon  differing  in  accordance 
with  its  purport,  the  chonta  spear  for  tapir,  the  blunt 
arrow  for  birds,  and  so  forth.  These  wooden  weapons  are 
scraped  smooth  with  the  file-like  jaw  of  the  pirai  fish,  and 
a final  polish  is  put  on  with  the  leaves  of  the  Cecropia 
peltata,  which  are  rough  enough  to  be  effective  substitutes 
for  sand-paper.  The  spears  are  thickest  at  the  head,  and 
taper  nearly  to  a point  at  the  butt.  The  head  is  made  of  a 
separate  piece  of  chonta  some  three  inches  long,  bound  into 
the  grooved  end.  A poisoned  palm  spine  is  always  fixed 
in  the  point  of  a spear,  as  in  the  lighter  thro  wing- javelin. 
About  two  or  three  inches  down,  the  head  is  filed  nearly 
through,  in  order  that  it  shall  break  off  in  the  wound,  and 

1 The  frame  is  made  of  timbo-titica,  Heteropsis  sp.  (Spruce,  ii.  523). 


PLATE  XXX, 


1.  Water  Jar,  Menimehe  (a)  Witoto 

2.  Drums  (Witoto) 

3.  Pan  pipes  (Witoto  (a)  Boro 
3.  Stone  Axe  (Andoke) 


7 

Paddle  used  on  main  Amazon  Stream 
Paddle  used  on  Issa  and  Japura  rivers 
Menimehe  Hand  Club 
Wooden  Sword  (Boro) 


9.  Pestle — Coca,  etc.  (Boro) 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS  117 

so  be  the  more  difficult  to  extract.  The  poisoned  point  is 
protected  with  a reed  sheath. 

Arrow-heads  also  are  half  filed  through.  This  is  done 
with  the  fish-jaw  attached  to  the  quiver  immediately  before 
use.  The  tips  are  made  of  chonta  and  are  poisoned.1  The 
bows  are  of  various  kinds  of  wood,  and  of  many  sizes,  strung 
with  fibre  made  thicker  and  stronger  as  desired.  The  arrow 
shaft  is  without  feathers,  and  has  no  nock  for  the  bowstring. 
The  arrows  are  carried  in  quivers  of  wicker  or  of  wood. 
The  Menimehe,  the  most  skilful  bowmen  of  these  regions, 
are  famous  for  their  quivers  as  well  as  for  their  pottery. 
They  make  the  quivers  out  of  bamboo,  the  elementary  ones 
being  merely  scraped-out  sections  cut  so  that  there  shall  be 
a joint  or  a knot  for  the  end  ; the  more  elaborate  specimens 
are  made  of  strips  of  bamboo  bound  together.  The  arrow 
poison  is  carried  in  a small  pot  or  calabash.  The  vegetable 
poisons  that  are  used  for  birds  and  small  game  give  place  to  a 
mixture  of  strychnos  and  poison  obtained  from  decomposed 
animal  or  human  matter  when  the  weapon  is  employed 
against  men  or  the  bigger  beasts.  Its  effect  on  a human 
being  is  said  to  be  almost  instantaneous. 

Indian  strategy  makes  for  concealment  both  in  attack 
and  defence.  A tribe  will  never  rush  precipitately  into 
open  and  aggressive  war  with  a neighbour.  Plans  for  the 
campaign  are  no  affairs  of  a hurried  minute  ; no  impulse 
of  uncontrolled  anger.  They  are,  on  the  contrary,  well 
matured  and  much  deliberated.  After  many  a tobacco 
palaver,  when  war  is  determined  on  for  any  good  and 
sufficient  reason — usually  revenge  for  some  real  or  fancied 
wrong — the  tribal  warriors  muster,  and  it  may  be  that  a 
friendly  tribe  will  assemble  with  them.  Attack  will  be 
stealthy,  silent,  and  never  by  any  chance  frontal.  These 
are  the  true  tactics  of  the  forest  denizen.  A noiseless  flank 
approach,  a sudden  rush,  and  then,  if  the  foe  be  taken 

1 Such  very  hard  wood  is  procurable,  and  so  abundant  is  it  that  even 
tribes  like  the  Botucudo,  who  could  use  shell,  stone,  or  metal,  use  wood  in 
preference,  and  many  tribes  prefer  their  lithic  axes  to  metal  ones.  The 
inference  is  obvious — these  peoples  are  not,  and  never  have  been,  metal- 
using races,  and  poisoned  wood  suits  sufficiently  their  purposes  for  arrow- 
heads. 


n8 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


unawares,  a furious  onslaught.  But  surprise  is  essential 
to  success.  With  the  utmost  caution  they  approach  the 
enemy’s  head-quarters,  the  big  tribal  house,  probably  when 
a dance  is  taking  place  and  the  hostile  warriors  are  occupied 
with  matters  other  than  possible  war.  The  invaders  wait 
for  night ; creep  in  under  cover  of  darkness  ; and  if  possible 
cut  up  the  unprepared  revellers  when  asleep  after  the  feast. 
Should  the  victorious  attackers  be  in  a blood-thirsty  mood, 
every  soul  will  be  killed  and  the  house  burnt.  But  the 
Indian  is  no  Berserker  when  fighting.  He  is  as  careful  of 
his  own  skin  as  he  is  anxious  to  destroy  his  foe — possibly 
even  more  so ; a living  enemy  may  be  slain  in  the  future, 
but  if  he  be  killed  himself  ultimate  vengeance  is  no  longer 
for  him. 

As  regards  defence,  the  Indian  never  attempts  any 
effective  fortification  of  his  home.  The  only  defensive 
action  taken  by  the  tribes  is  to  prepare  a series  of  pitfalls 
in  the  forest  avenues,  after  the  fashion  described  for  game, 
with  poisoned  stakes  to  impale  any  foe  who  may  un- 
wittingly stray  into  them.  Death  in  such  a trap  comes  very 
speedily.  These  pits,  as  I have  already  noted,  are  always 
dug  by  the  Karahone. 

It  appeared  to  me  that  the  Indians  depended  mainly  on 
the  secrecy  of  the  tribal  dwelling,  ensured  by  the  absence  of 
direct  footways  ; for  though  their  houses  are  not  built  on 
defensive — or  even  defendable — lines,  the  hostility  between 
various  language-groups  is  rampant,  as  has  been  already 
shown,  and  internecine  strife  is  unending.  The  Indian  has 
been  called  docile  and  gentle.  He  may  be,  if  to  fear  an 
enemy  as  much  as  he  is  hated  be  docility.  “ Do  not  wait  for 
the  first  blow  but  deal  it : if  you  cannot  deal  it  with  im- 
punity now  wait  till  you  can — but  wait  securely  hidden  ” : 
there  is  the  whole  text-book  of  the  Indian’s  science  of  war. 

If  it  can  be  done  with  due  regard  to  personal  safety  the 
Indian  warriors  like  to  take  prisoners.  A prisoner  is  tangible 
evidence  of  successful  achievement  and  personal  valour. 
There  is,  as  a rule,  no  mutilation  of  the  dead,  or  of  a 
prisoner ; whatever  does  occur  is  due  to  personal  brutality 
on  the  part  of  some  individual.  Prisoners  are  bound  with 


PLATE  XXXI. 


BAMBOO  CASES,  FILLED  WITH  DARTS  FOR  BLOWPIPE— SHOWING 
FISH-JAW  SCRAPER,  AND  GOURD  FILLED  WITH  RAW  COTTON.  ONE 
DART  HAS  TUFT  OF  COTTON  PLACED  READY  FOR  USE. 

THESE  ARE  ANDOKE  WORK 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


119 

palm -fibre,  and  so  long  as  they  walk  quickly  enough, 
when  the  victorious  band  returns  from  the  fray,  they  are 
not  ill  - treated.  But  there  must  be  no  delay.  Every 
moment  adds  to  the  dangers  that  threaten  the  marauders. 
Vengeance  accomplished,  they  must  hurry  back  to  the 
comparative  safety  of  their  own  locality.  If  a prisoner  lag 
he  endangers  his  captors,  and  in  self-defence  they  would  slay 
him.  Prisoners  are  sometimes  sold,  but  as  a rule  they  are 
killed  and  eaten  at  the  big  feast  arranged  to  commemorate 
the  event,  unless  they  are  young  enough  to  be  kept  as  slaves 
without  risk  of  their  running  away  to  tell  tribal  enemies  of 
the  secret  roads  through  the  bush.  The  consumption  of  a 
dead  foe  at  least  guarantees  his  harmlessness — as  a warrior, 
if  not  as  a comestible. 

Prisoners  are  never  kept  for  any  length  of  time,  on 
account  of  the  danger  that  would  follow  should  they  manage 
to  escape.  They  get  no  food  nor  drink,  and  if  never  actually 
tortured,  are  treated  very  casually  until  killed  with  a heavy 
wooden  sword,  not  with  poisoned  javelins,  as  Robuchon 
imagined  was  the  ceremonial  method  of  killing  for  culinary 
purposes.  The  captor  knocks  his  prisoner  down  with 
blows  on  the  shins  and  the  thigh,  and  then  hacks  off  the 
head  with  his  broadsword.  Robuchon  is  also  responsible 
for  the  statement  that  the  prisoners  consider  that  to  be 
thus  killed  and  eaten  is  a great  distinction  and  honour.  It 
is  true  that  they  make  no  complaints,  but  that  is  simply 
on  account  of  the  fatalistic  nature  of  the  Indian. 

If  killed  in  war  a chief’s  body  is  carried  off  by  his 
tribe  if  possible,  though  the  ordinary  warriors,  dead  or 
wounded,  of  the  beaten  faction  are  left  to  their  fate,  for 
fear  of  delay  and  possible  surprise  during  retreat ; although 
that  fate  be  known  to  be  consumption  by  the  enemy. 

Among  the  Boro  and  other  cannibal  tribes  anthropo- 
phagous orgies  follow  hard  on  the  heels  of  tribal  strife.  If 
it  happens  to  be  possible,  that  is  to  say  if  the  fight  has 
taken  place  as  an  attack  on  their  own  house,  the  corpses 
of  the  enemy  are  eaten  ; but  no  Indian  ever  risks  the 
chance  of  reprisals  being  taken  by  remaining  in  the  vicinity 
of  a hostile  house  to  eat  the  dead,  nor  will  he  ever  burden 


120 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


himself  with  food  when  returning  to  his  own  habitation. 
The  cannibal  feast  thus  becomes  the  prerogative  of  the 
conqueror. 

Unlike  the  better-known  tribes  of  Guiana,  most,  if  not 
all,  of  the  Indians  of  the  upper  rivers  are  indisputably 
cannibals,  especially  the  Boro,  Andoke,  and  Resigero  groups. 
It  has  even  been  asserted  by  some  writers  that  sundry 
tribes  belong  to  the  lowest  grade  of  cannibals  in  that  they 
will  “ eat  their  own  dead  children,  friends  and  relatives.”  1 
This,  however,  is  incorrect,  and  why  it  must  be  so  is  very 
obvious  when  the  main  causation  of  extra-tribal  cannibalism 
is  understood. 

There  are  three  reasons  why  these  Indians  are  anthro- 
pophagous. 

In  the  first  place,  and  it  is  not  only  the  first  but  the  most 
general  and  important,  anthropophagy  is  looked  upon  as  a 
system  of  vengeance,  a method  of  inflicting  the  supreme 
insult  upon  an  enemy.2  It  will  be  seen  that  the  Indian  has 
very  definite  opinions  as  to  the  inferiority  of  the  brute 
creation.  To  resemble  animals  in  any  way  is  a matter  to 
be  avoided  at  all  costs.  Body  hair  is  an  animal  character- 
istic, so  man  must  depilate.  The  birth  of  twins  is  a disgrace 
because  it  is  a descent  to  bestial  levels.  What  a crowning 
disgrace  then  must  it  be  for  the  dead  to  share  no  better  fate 
than  that  of  slaughtered  animals.  No  more  absolute  ven- 
geance on  the  dead  could  be  devised.  The  primary  cause 
therefore  is  insult. 

Secondly,  there  is  a desire  to  make  use  of  what  would 
otherwise  be  waste  material.  Animal  food  is  scarce  in  the 
forest.  But  these  tribes  do  not,  as  has  been  asserted  of  the 
Cobeu  and  Arekaine,3  make  war  simply  with  a view  to 
obtaining  provision  of  human  flesh.  Anthropophagy  is  the 
effect,  not  the  cause,  of  war.  But  then  there  remains  the 
fact  that  meat  is  hard  to  come  by,  and  is  continually  re- 
quired. The  slain  and  the  prisoners  provide  meat,  and  at 


1 Oakenfull,  p.  30. 

2 Compare  with  customs  of  the  Mafulu  in  .British  New  Guinea  (William- 
son, p.  179  ; Fiji,  Thompson,  p.  35). 

3 Clough,  pp.  104-5  ; Wallace,  p.  353. 


PLATE  XXXII 


WITOTO  WAR  GATHERING  (Some  Brummagen  Goods) 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


121 


the  same  time  the  degradation,  the  ignominy  of  supplying 
the  place  of  beasts  makes  vengeance  most  definite. 

Finally,  and  in  a still  more  subsidiary  degree,  there  is 
the  reason  most  commonly  advanced,  the  supposition  that 
there  exists  a measure  of  belief  in  the  assumption  of  the 
characteristics  of  the  eaten  by  the  eater  ; a belief  that  must 
give  sardonic  impulse  to  the  primary  reason  of  all,  the  desire 
to  degrade  the  dead.  Though  this  third  reason  has  least 
weight  of  any  with  the  Indian,  it  cannot  be  entirely  absent 
when  the  food  tabu  connected  with  childbirth  is  remem- 
bered. But  I know  of  no  such  actually  admitted  reasons 
as  give  rise  to  anthropophagous  feasts  elsewhere,  as  among 
the  Aro,  who  are  said  to  eat  human  sacrifices  because  “ those 
who  ate  their  flesh  ate  gods,  and  thus  assimilated  something 
of  the  divine  attributes  and  power.”  1 

The  subsidiary  reason,  that  of  necessary  anthropophagy, 
has  been  advanced  by  some  apologists,2  and  with  a certain 
amount  of  truth.  But  this  reason  may  be  looked  upon  as 
very  secondary,  in  my  opinion,  though,  were  the  food-quest 
of  little  importance,  there  might  be  less  cannibalism.  The 
Indian  would,  in  fact,  only  eat  human  flesh  ceremonially, 
as  a ritual  insult. 

From  all  this  it  follows  that  intra-tribal  cannibalism 
would  be  a criminal  outrage  by  the  tribe  on  itself,  and  there- 
fore it  could  never  occur  that  a member  of  the  tribe  was 
eaten,  nor  would  his  teeth  be  extracted  even  to  show  an 
accomplished  revenge.  This  disposes  of  any  such  thing  as 
the  eating  of  dead  relatives  as  a sign  of  respect.  These  and 
similar  statements  are  due  to  misapprehension  of  facts  by 
the  writer,  or  a too  hasty  judgment  on  the  part  of  the 
explorer. 

One  other  cannibal  custom  noted  by  Wallace  and  recently 
confirmed  by  Koch-Griinberg,  is  unknown  to  me,  that  of 
exhuming  the  bones  of  the  dead,  which  are  then  burnt  and 
the  calcined  remains  made  into  broth.3  No  such  custom 
ever  came  under  my  notice,  nor  did  any  of  the  tribes  refer 

1 Partridge,  Cross  River  Natives,  p.  59;  "Upper  Congo  Cannibals,” 
J.R.A xxiv.  pp.  298-9. 

2 For  example.  Maw,  p.  160. 

3 Wallace,  pp.  346-7. 


122 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


to  such  practices  in  any  way  in  my  hearing.  The  dried 
human  heads  prepared  by  the  J i varo  1 are  also  unknown  in 
the  regions  here  dealt  with.  No  heads  are  mummified  in 
this  district.  But  among  some  of  the  tribes  south  of  the 
main  Amazon  river  this  repulsive  art  is  carried  on,  and 
specimens  of  these  heads,  not  more  than  one-fifth  their 
natural  size,  have  been  obtained  and  brought  to  Europe.2 
Their  exportation  is  now  forbidden  by  the  South  American 
governments,  as  the  supply  not  unnaturally  was  apt  to 
coincide  with  the  demand. 

Though  these  reduced  heads  are  unknown  to  the  Issa- 
Japura  tribes,  the  head  is  not  ignored  as  a trophy.  The 
fleshy  parts,  the  hair  and  the  teeth  are  removed,  and  the 
skull  is  hung  in  the  plantation  patch  to  be  cleaned  by 
ants  and  other  insect  scavengers.  These  will  pick  one  bare 
in  half  an  hour.  Cleaned,  and  dried  in  the  sun,  this  memorial 
of  victory  is  eventually  suspended  outside,  or  on  the  rafters 
in  the  house,  over  the  string  that  carries  the  top  part  of  the 
drums.  Bates  records  how  the  Mandurucu  soaked  the 
heads  “ in  bitter  vegetable  oil,”  and  then  smoked  or  sun- 
dried  them,3  but  the  Issa-Japura  tribes  subject  their  dread- 
ful trophies  to  no  other  process  than  the  action  of  the  insects, 
air,  and  sun  in  the  plantations.  These  ghastly  evidences  of 
Indian  vengeance  I have  often  seen  in  the  houses,  and  in  the 
plantations,  the  bare  skulls  gleaming  white  like  so  many 
gourds  on  a string.  Robuchon  also  mentions  that  he 
found  skulls  hanging  from  the  ceiling  of  malokas,  which  the 
natives  were  quite  ready  to  barter  for  a large  handful  of 
beads,  but  this  does  not  tally  with  my  experience. 

When  a feast  is  to  take  place  the  prisoners  are  knocked 
down  and  despatched,  their  heads  removed  to  be  danced 
with  and  eventually  dried  as  trophies.  The  body  is  then 
divided  and  shared  among  the  feasters.  Only  the  legs  and 
arms,  and  the  fleshy  parts  of  the  head,  are  eaten  ceremoni- 
ally, anything  like  the  intestines,  brains,  and  so  forth,  is 
regarded  as  filthy  and  never  touched,  nor  is  the  trunk  eaten. 

1 Ratzel,  ii.  138-9;  Orton,  pp.  171-2. 

2 See  British  Museum,  Cambridge  Museum,  Munich  Museum. 

3 Bates,  ii.  132. 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


123 


The  male  genital  organs,  however,  are  given  to  the  wife  of 
the  chief,  the  only  woman  who  has  any  share  in  the  feast. 
The  hands  and  feet  are  regarded  as  delicacies,  for  the  same 
reason  that  civilised  man  has  a preference  for  calves’  feet, 
on  account  of  their  gelatinous  character. 

Each  portion  of  flesh  is  tied  to  a stick,  and  every  man, 
according  to  Robuchon’s  account,  drops  his  share  in  the 
pot,  and  places  the  stick  to  which  it  is  tied  on  the  ground 
beside  it  whilst  he  watches  till  the  meat  is  cooked.  I was 
told  that  the  culinary  processes  were  attended  to  by  the 
old  women  of  the  tribe.  The  flesh,  with  the  required 
seasoning  of  peppers,  is  boiled  over  a slow  fire,  while  drums 
are  beaten,  and  the  assembled  tribe — adorned  with  full 
panoply  of  paint,  necklaces,  and  feathers,  and  with  the 
gory  heads  fixed  upon  their  dancing  staves — dance  round 
singing  a wild  song  of  victory. 

The  savage  orgy  will  continue  for  hours,  with  outbursts 
of  drum-beating,  gratulatory  orations,  and  much  drinking. 
I was  told  that  the  festival  of  drink  and  dance  will  go  on 
without  intermission  for  eight  days.1 

Only  men  eat  ceremonially,  the  women,  with  the  excep- 
tion of  the  chief’s  wife,  having  no  share  in  the  revolting 
feast,  except  on  occasions,  when  perhaps  the  necessity 
for  animal  food — the  secondary  reason' — is  the  cause  of 
the  indulgence.  What  portions  of  the  bodies  are  not 
eaten  are  thrown  into  the  river.  I do  not  know  if  this 
is  ceremonial,  but  it  is  curious  to  note  that  the  Indian 
paradise  is  up  river,  not  down,  where,  of  course,  the  refuse 
is  carried  by  the  stream.  With  some  tribes  the  trunk  is 
buried,  or  it  may  be  merely  thrown  into  the  bush  to  be 
devoured  by  the  wild  dogs.  This  latter  is  not  infrequent. 
These  methods  of  disposal  are  ceremonial  in  so  much  as 
that  they  are  carried  out  amid  organised  tribal  jeers  and 
insults. 

Flutes  are  made  out  of  the  arm-bones  of  eaten  prisoners, 
the  humerus.  The  radius  and  the  ulna,  fleshless  and  dry, 

1 I was  never  present  at  a cannibal  feast.  This  information  is  based  on 
Robuchon’s  account,  checked  by  cross-questioning  the  Indians  with  whom 
I came  in  contact. 


124 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


with  the  fingers  of  the  hand  contracted,  are  fastened  to 
wooden  handles  and  used  to  stir  the  kawana.  I have  seen 
these,  but  they  are  jealously  guarded  by  their  owners,  and 
probably  no  white  man  has  succeeded  in  obtaining  a 
specimen. 

Among  the  tribes  of  the  Japura  and  the  Issa  the  teeth 
are  always  carefully  retained  by  the  slayer,  to  be  made  into 
a necklace,  a visible  and  abiding  token  of  his  completed 
revenge.  This  removal  of  the  teeth  may  be  held  synony- 
mous with  the  curse  of  many  savage  tribes  in  reference  to 
their  enemies — “ Let  their  teeth  be  broken.”  David  himself 
called  upon  God  to  “ break  the  teeth  ” of  his  foes.  Possibly 
the  reason  is  a reversion  in  thought  to  the  time  when  the 
teeth  were  man’s  only  weapon. 

It  is  certainly  worth  noting  in  connection  with  the 
anthropophagous  practices  of  these  tribes  that  they  have 
almost  no  salt.  In  its  natural  state  it  is  non-existent 
throughout  the  Issa -Japura  regions,  and  can  only  be  obtained 
with  difficulty.  It  is  possible  that  the  salt  in  human  blood 
may  be  one  of  the  unrealised  attractions  that  lead  these 
peoples  to  anthropophagous  practices.  A craving  that  can 
be  so  dominant  as  to  influence  race  migration,  as  the  salt-, 
craving  may  do,1  can  hardly  be  ignored  when  dealing  with 
the  inhabitants  of  a country  where  local  conditions  offer 
little  or  nothing  to  satisfy  it. 

Another  vice  which  may  very  possibly  have  origin  in  the 
same  lack  of  a necessary  condiment,  and  to  which  these 
Indians  are  very  prone,  is  the  eating  of  clay.2  It  is 
not  impossible  that  the  clay  may  have  saline  properties  ; 
in  any  case  among  all  these  tribes  geophagy  is  very 
common,  especially  with  the  non-cocainists,  the  women 
and  children.  As  a rule  it  occurs  among  the  very  poorest 
— the  slave  clan,  — those  who  are  least  able  to  obtain 
such  a luxury  as  salt,  and  it  is  found  among  the  female 
children  most  of  all.  The  latter  fact  is  perhaps  because 
the  male  child,  the  potential  warrior,  is  the  more  carefully 

1 Johnson,  Liberia,  ii.  898.  ^ 

2 On  the  other  hand  earth-eating  is  prevalent  among  the  Torres  Straits 
people,  where  salt  is  not  rare.  The  pregnant  woman  eats  it  to  make  her 
infant  light  in  colour  and  strong  and  brave  (' Torres  Straits  Exped.,  iv.  139). 


PLATE  XXXIII 


BORO 

NECK- 

LACE 

MADE 

OF 

MAR- 

MOSET 

TEETH 


2. 

ANDOKE 

NECK- 

LACE 

OF 

HUMAN 

TEETH 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


125 


guarded,  and  would  be  the  more  severely  beaten  if  dis- 
covered eating  dirt.  I never  came  across  any  man  who 
eat  clay,  though  I know  of  a boy  who  suffered  from  this 
neurotic  appetite.  The  clay,  if  it  cannot  be  otherwise 
obtained,  will  be  scraped  from  under  the  fireplace,  and  it 
is  always  eaten  secretly. 

The  Indians  look  upon  geophagy  as  injurious,  but  it 
appears  to  be  ineradicable.  I cannot  help  thinking  it  must 
be  due  to  some  great  “ want  ” in  Indian  diet,  a physical 
craving  that  the  ordinary  food  of  the  tribes  does  not  satisfy. 
It  is  instinctive.  In  the  manufacture  of  coca  they  add 
clay.  This  suggests  that  if  taken  in  small  quantities  it 
may  have  a neutralising  and  therefore  a beneficial  effect  on 
some  more  or  less  injurious  article  of  daily  food.  But  it 
rapidly,  and  invariably,  degenerates  into  a vice  ; and  the 
habit  appears  to  have  a weakening  and  wasting  effect  on 
the  whole  body. 

In  some  parts  of  the  Amazons,  though  not  with  these 
tribes,  the  clay  is  regularly  prepared  for  use,1  and  the  vice 
is  shared  by  other  races  than  the  Indian.2  Children  who 
suffer  from  this  extraordinary  craving  will  swallow  anything 
of  a similar  character,  earth,  wax,  and  Bates  even  mentions 
pitch,3  but  they  prefer  the  clay  that  is  scraped  from  under 
the  spot  where  the  fire  has  been  burning,  probably  because 
the  chemical  processes  induced  by  the  heat  render  it  more 
soluble,  easily  pulverised,  and  hence  more  actually  digestive 
in  its  action. 

It  has  been  suggested  that  this  disease  was  introduced 
into  America  by  negro  slaves,  and  is  not  indigenous.  This 
is  a question  for  the  bacteriological  expert  rather  than  the 
traveller  to  decide,  but  as  it  indubitably  exists  among  tribes 
that  have  not  come  in  any  contact  with  negroes  or  negro- 
influenced  natives  it  would  seem  to  argue  on  the  face  of 
things  that  the  similarity  of  vicious  tastes  was  due  to 
similarity  of  causation,  rather  than  to  contamination  by 
evil  example,  unless  the  ubiquitous  microbe  is  to  be  held 
responsible  for  this  ill  also. 

1 Crevaux,  p.  287. 


2 Bates,  ii.  195. 


3 Ibid. 


CHAPTER  IX 


The  food  quest — Indians  omnivorous  eaters— Tapir  and  other  animals 
used  for  food — Monkeys — The  peccary — Feathered  game — Vermin — 
Eggs,  carrion,  and  intestines  not  eaten — Honey — Fish— Manioc — 
Preparation  of  cassava — Peppers — The  Indian  hot-pot — Lack  of  salt 
— Indian  meals — Cooking — Fruits — Cow-tree  milk. 


Food  is  the  dominant  problem  of  an  Indian’s  existence. 
The  food  quest  is  to  him  no  indefinite  sociological  issue  of 
future  “ food  control,”  but  an  affair  of  every  day.  Living, 
it  would  seem,  in  the  midst  of  plenty,  starvation  is  a 
frequent  visitant  in  an  Amazonian  household.  They  are  an 
improvident  folk,  as  I have  already  stated,  and  if  food 
be  plentiful  give  no  thought  to  make  provision  for  the 
morrow,  when  there  may  be  none  to  be  had.1  “ None  ” to 
the  man  of  the  forest  has  a different  significance,  a more 
inclusive  meaning,  than  it  has  to  the  white  man,  for  it 
comprehends  everything  that  by  the  widest  stretch  of  the 
imagination  can  be  considered  possible  for  human  con- 
sumption. And  it  is  well  for  the  Indians  that  they  are 
omnivorous,  for  the  uncertainty  of  food  supply  is  the  most 
certain  factor  of  life  in  the  Amazonian  bush.2 

To  run  through  the  details  of  the  possible  provision  of 
meat : there  is,  to  start  with,  the  tapir,3  though  the  Witoto 
consider  much  tapir  is  bad,  especially  for  women.  The 
print  of  its  three  toes,  with  a fourth  on  the  forefeet,  is  very 
seldom  not  to  be  found  in  the  damp  soil  by  stream  and 

1 Some  tribes,  for  example  the  Jivaro  (Simson,  pp.  93-4),  are  said  to  be 
more  provident  in1  this  respect,  but  the  Boro  and  Witoto;  groups  are  not 
among  them.  Occasionally  a store  of  pines  may  be  made  in  October,  when 
pines  are  most  plentiful,  but  this  is  all. 

2 It  may  be  noted  here  that  all  the  denizens  of  the  forest,  including  even 
the  larger  carnivora,  are  by  popular  report  fruit-eaters,  and  are  specially 
fond  of  the  wild  alligator  pear  (cf.  Spruce,  ii.  362-3). 

3 Tapirus  americanus. 


126 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


127 


river.  The  tapir  is  in  fact  plentiful  throughout  these 
regions,  though,  thanks  to  its  protective  colouring,  it 
may  often  not  be  obtrusively  present.  The  young  tapir 
is  flecked  and  dotted  with  pale  yellow  spots  on  its  brown 
coat,  an  exact  imitation  of  sunlight  on  the  earth  through 
foliage.  Gradually  these  stripes  and  spots  fade  to  dull 
greys,  only  the  fully  grown  animal  is  entirely  without 
them,  and  of  a uniform  dead  slaty  colour.  Young  tapir 
flesh  makes  an  excellent  dish,  and  is  like  pork  in  taste,  but 
it  must  be  eaten  very  fresh,  for  the  meat  will  not  keep 
sweet  many  hours  on  account  of  its  richness.  Therefore  if 
a tapir  is  killed  in  the  water  and  sinks,1  it  must  be  eaten 
immediately  it  comes  to  the  surface,  that  is  after  some  hours, 
during  which  the  gases  have  generated  in  the  animal’s 
stomach,  and  so  caused  it  to  rise.  But  tapir  is  always  con- 
sidered unhealthy  if  eaten  too  frequently,  and  at  certain 
seasons  of  the  year  is  said  to  be  quite  uneatable,  and  if  taken 
gives  rise  to  sickness.  An  old  tapir  is  tough  and  heavy 
eating  at  the  best  of  times.  Tapir  flesh  dried  over  a smoky 
fire  is  excellent  eating,  though  I have  never  seen  the  Indians 
smoke  meat  for  keeping,  even  when  they  found  I did  so 
myself.  Another  meat  that  has  been  compared  with  pork  is 
that  of  the  paca.2  It  is  rich  and  fat,  but  it  is  eatable,  and 
not  so  strong  in  flavour  as  the  flesh  of  the  capybara,3  a 
larger  animal,  found  usually  in  the  vicinity  of  water.  In 
appearance  the  capybara  is  not  unlike  a long-nosed,  crop- 
eared  rabbit,  while  its  cousin  the  agouti,4  chestnut-coloured 
and  rough-haired,  has  a rat-like  face  on  a rabbit’s  body, 
though  the  flesh  has  nothing  in  common  with  the  rabbit’s. 
Both  the  paca  and  the  agouti  are  plentiful  in  the  forest. 
Of  the  two  the  latter  is  more  of  a forest-dweller,  and  seeks 
the  streams  only  to  drink. 

A small  species  of  ant-bear  is  fairly  common,  but  the  1 
large  ant-eater  is  not  often  found.  The  latter  does  exist  in 
the  Issa-Japura  watersheds,  according  to  Indian  accounts; 
and  ant-bear  is  eaten  by  the  Boro,  but  has  too  strong  and 

1 All  animals  when  wounded  appear  to  take  to  water. 

2 Coelogenys  paca. 

3 Hydrochaerus  capybara.  4 Dasyprocta  agouti. 


128 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


pungent  a taste  for  the  white  palate.  Armadilloes,  when 
obtainable,  are  baked  in  the  ashes  of  the  fire,  as  hedgehogs 
are  roasted  in  England. 

Monkey  flesh,  though  usually  tough  and  invariably 
insipid,  is  by  no  means  despised,  nor  must  a traveller  in 
these  regions  be  squeamish  over  it,  horribly  suggestive  as 
the  body  of  a cooked  monkey  very  certainly  is  in  appearance, 
for  monkey  meat  most  frequently  will  be  the  only  plat  on 
the  dinner  menu.  It  is  the  most  ordinary  food  of  the 
Indian,  though  monkey  is  not  the  easiest  game  to  collect. 
The  wounded  or  dying  animal  is  very  apt  to  clutch  at  the 
boughs  in  its  agony,  and  the  hand  will  contract  in  death 
and  the  body  remain  pendant.  Even  if  it  drop  it  will 
frequently  stick  in  a forked  branch  out  of  reach  ; so  that 
for  one  monkey  eaten  probably  several  are  slain.  Monkeys 
of  all  sorts,  however,  abound  throughout  the  forest,  and 
also  marmosets,  pretty  little  creatures  with  something  of 
the  squirrel  about  them.1  Though  I never  saw  the  big- 
bellied  monkey  mentioned  by  Spruce,2  I noticed  a large 
number  of  spider-monkeys,  with  tails  so  prehensile  that 
they  serve  as  additional  hands  to  convey  fruit  to  their 
mouths.  The  supply  of  monkey  flesh  depends  in  the  first 
instance  on  what  provender  there  may  be  in  the  neighbour- 
hood for  those  animals.  Monkeys  are  wanderers,  and  when 
they  have  cleared  one  part  of  the  forest  of  fruit  and  nuts, 
they  migrate  to  another.  The  migration  of  game  is  a 
serious  matter  for  the  Indian,  for  all  animals  here  are  sub- 
ject to  periodical  movements  as  noted  in  the  previous 
chapter.  It  may  result  in  the  abandonment  of  a homestead 
when  scarcity  of  animal  life  in  a district  drives  the  human 
inhabitants  away. 

When  it  can  be  obtained  a deer,  or  a sloth,  furnishes  a 
variety  for  the  cooking-pot ; and  then  there  is  the  peccary, 
so  dreaded  by  the  Indian.  The  peccary,3  the  wild  pig  of 

1 I captured  some  and  brought  them  away  as  pets. 

2 Spruce,  i.  p.  182. 

3 Dicotypes  tajacu  is  the  only  one  I observed  in  these  parts,  but 
D.  labiatus  is  common  in  the  bush.  The  peccary  is  called  kairooni  by 
the  Arawak  ; mero  and  emo  by  the  Witoto  according  to  the  species  ; mcne 
by  the  Boro  ; and  whinga  by  the  Macusi. 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


129 


the  forest,  lives  in  small  herds,  and  the  reason  proffered  by 
the  Indians  for  their  fear  of  the  animal  is  that  when  one  is 
wounded  it  sets  up  a loud  cry,  and  the  rest  of  the  herd 
promptly  come  to  its  aid  and  join  in  attacking  the  aggressor. 
This  story  is  universal  among  the  tribes.  The  peccary  has 
a deceptively  harmless  appearance.  They  have  not  all 
tusks,  and  in  no  case  are  the  tusks  very  prominent  ; 
yet,  so  sharp  are  they,  that  the  fearless  and  pugnacious 
creature  can  inflict  a severe  wound.  The  shoulder  and  leg 
are  the  parts  prized  for  eating.  I know  of  no  temporary 
tabu  connected  with  this  animal,  though  it  has  been  said 
that  at  times  the  flesh  is  unfit  for  food  on  account  of  a gland 
in  the  back.1  This  may,  however,  be  the  reason  why  the 
body  is  rarely  eaten. 

Of  birds,  parrots  are  the  most  plentiful,  and  the  toughest. 
For  a hard,  tasteless,  and  unappetising  meal  commend  me 
to  the  carcase  of  that  noisy  bird.  They  require  to  be  stewed 
for  quite  twenty-four  hours,  and  that  over  a slow  fire,  or 
else  the  flesh  is  impossible  to  eat.  Their  chief  use  is  in 
soup.  Macaw,  curassow,  piuri  and  panje,  mocking-bird, 
toucan,  and  egrets  all  go  to  the  family  pepper-pot  of  the 
successful  hunter,  with  the  turkey  of  these  parts,  pigeons, 
partridges,  herons,  ducks,  and  geese  ; in  fact  quite  a good 
assortment  of  feathered  fowl. 

The  frogs  that  make  night  hideous  with  their  croaking 
provide  the  Indian  epicure  with  one  of  his  most  esteemed 
dishes,  for  both  frogs  and  snakes  are  considered  delicacies, 
so  that  the  traveller  who  pitied  tribes  like  the  Botocudo, 
because  insects  and  reptiles  formed  a large  part  of  their 
diet,2  would  simply  be  wasting  his  sympathy.  Even  the 
white  man  does  not  disdain  the  delicate  flesh  of  the  iguana, 
ugly  though  that  green-bellied,  black-ridge-backed  reptile 
is.  Turtles  are  caught  and  eaten  during  the  dry  season 
when  the  rivers  are  low.  The  native  method  of  capturing 
them  is  to  turn  the  unwieldly  creature  over  on  its  back 
when  asleep  on  the  sand-banks.  This  renders  the  turtles 
perfectly  helpless,  though  a snap  from  their  powerful 


1 See  Wood’s  Natural  History,  “Mammals.” 
2 Oakenfull,  p.  30. 


K 


130 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


jaws  will  do  serious  damage.1  The  eggs  also  are  eaten  by 
these  tribes,  although  none  of  the  Issa- Japura  tribes  will 
touch  birds’  eggs,  for  they  look  upon  them  as  foetal,  and 
therefore  unclean.2  Further  it  is  beast-like,  in  their  opinion, 
to  eat  the  liver,  kidneys,  and  other  intestines  of  animals, 
though  these  may  be  made  into  soup  or  hot-pot.  For 
the  same  reason  the  Indian  does  not  touch  carrion.3  But 
such  niceness  is  outbalanced  by  tastes  that  in  our  eyes 
would  be  equally  or  even  more  filthy,  for  the  Indian  will 
eat  vermin,  and  head  lice  are  looked  upon  as  quite  a bon 
bouche.  Hence  a scurf-comb  is  a most  important  present, 
and  to  comb  your  neighbour’s  hair  and  eat  the  “ bag  ” 
an  honour  and  a luxury.4  They  will  also  eat  the  grubs 
of  wasps  and  bees,  in  fact  any  larvae — nothing  comes  amiss 
to  them. 

All  the  Indians — except  the  Menimehe,  who,  as  men- 
tioned, keep  hives  in  their  houses, — collect  wild  honey 
from  the  hollow  trees  and  other  places  where  the  bees  nest 
in  the  bush.  Sometimes  these  insects  make  nests  of  a con- 
siderable size,  that  look  like  lobster  pots  full  of  black  pitch 
hanging  on  the  tree-trunks.  The  large  cells  are  full  of  a 
thin  honey  that  is  used  by  the  natives  to  mix  with  various 
drinks.  The  Indians  are  very  fond  of  honey,  and  smoke 
the  bees  out  to  secure  it.  Bees  are  more  common  than 
wasps  in  these  parts,  and  fortunately  are  less  dangerous. 

Fish  abound  in  all  the  rivers,  though  like  the  plants  and 
animals  they  are  smaller  in  the  upper  reaches  than  in  the 
lower  Amazon  valleys.  Robuchon  gave  the  following  as 
found  in  the  Issa  : Silurios  of  all  kinds,  that  is  to  say  platy- 
somas,  planiceps,  platyrhynchos,  leopardus,  and  the  little 
caudirus  ( Serasalmys ),  Pygo,  Cebras,  Piraga  ( D . costatus 
et  carinatus ) ; also  many  kinds  of  needle  fish  and  shark- 


1 Turning  turtles  is  prohibited  by  law  in  Brazil,  but  no  law  reaches 
these  wilds. 

2 The  Indians  of  British  Guiana  who  eat  the  turtles’  and  iguana  eggs, 
also  “ will  not  touch  the  egg  of  a fowl  ” (im  Thurn,  p.  1 8). 

3 They  do  not.  however,  object  to  their  food  being  decidedly  " high” 
(cf.  Simson,  p.  1 1 5). 

1 In  this  they  share  the  tastes  of  the  Liberian  women  (cf.  Johnston, 
Liberia,  ii.  954). 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


131 

toothed  fish.  There  is  any  quantity  of  skate  in  the  Issa, 
though  its  power  to  inflict  a nasty  wound  does  not  recom- 
mend it  to  the  naked  Indian  fisherman.  Some  of  the  fish 
are  very  good  eating  ; none  better  than  the  uaracu,  which 
is  said  to  feed  on  laurel  berries.1 

It  is  when  one  turns  to  the  vegetable  world  that  one 
finds  the  staple  food  of  the  Amazonian  native.  The  manioc 
is  to  the  Indian  the  chief  necessary  of  life.  The  sweet 
manioc,2  although  known  to  these  Issa- Japura  tribes,  is 
never  planted,  because  it  is  not  appreciated  by  them. 
They  prefer  the  poisonous  species  which,  as  its  botanical 
name  Manihot  utilissima  implies,  can  be  put  to  a multi- 
plicity of  uses.  To  eliminate  the  poison  and  render  it  fit 
for  food,  the  manioc  is  subjected  to  several  processes.  So 
far  as  I could  observe,  or  learn  by  leading  questions,  these 
are  roughly  as  follows  : 

The  women  bring  the  brown  tubers  of  the  manioc  in 
baskets  from  the  plantation.  On  their  way  up  they  stop 
by  the  river  and  cleanse  the  soil  from  the  roots,  which  are 
like  a small  beet  in  appearance,  but  white  when  peeled. 
The  manioc  after  it  has  been  washed  and  soaked  for  a short 
time  is  next  scraped  by  means  of  a sharp  wooden  knife 
in  order  to  peel  off  the  thin  adhesive  skin,  similar  in  substance 
to  that  of  a potato,  but  if  anything  thinner.  Sometimes  the 
women  instead  of  using  a wooden  knife  simply  scrape  the 
skin  off  with  their  teeth.  The  peeled  roots  are  washed  in  the 
river  again,  and  taken  up  to  the  house.  Each  root  is  then 
cut  longitudinally  into  three  or  four  sections,  which  are 
put  in  a bowl  near  the  fire  and  left  to  soak  for  twenty-four 
hours.  When,  at  the  end  of  this  time,  the  manioc  is  suffi- 
ciently softened,  they  place  a piece  or  two  of  rotten  manioc 
in  the  bowl  with  the  fresh  stuff.  The  object  of  this  is  to 
promote  fermentation  and  thus  to  extract  the  poison  from 
the  fresh  root. 

The  next  process  is  to  mash  the  manioc,  and  for  this 
purpose  it  is  all — both  fresh  and  rotten — removed  from  the 
pan  and  grated  into  a large  wooden  trough,  with  the  special 
implement  that  has  black  palm-spines  inserted  in  the  soft 

1 Spruce,  ii.  381.  2 Manihot  aypi. 


132 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


wood  for  teeth.  The  grated  pulp  is  removed  from  the 
trough  and  put  into  a cylindrical  palm-cane  wringer,  the 
cassava-squeezer  which  is  used  by  the  Boro,  the  Andoke, 
the  Resigero,  the  Okaina;  and  all  tribes  to  the  north.  The 
Witoto  and  other  tribes  on  the  south  use  a long  rectangular 
palm-fibre  wringer,  which  is  twisted  to  form  a cylinder  in 
the  same  way  as  a puttee  is  wound  round  the  leg.  In  this 
elastic  cylinder  it  is  compressed  till  all  the  poisonous  juice 
has  been  drained  away,  when  the  remainder,  a coarse  kind  of 
flour,  is  placed  in  an  open  pan  and  left  to  get  thoroughly  dry. 
Afterwards  it  is  rubbed  between  the  hands  to  make  it 
finer.1 

The  next  operation  is  to  sift  this  flour  through  a basket 
sieve.  Any  coarse  stuff  that  does  not  rub  through  the 
sieve  is  thrown  away.  The  fine  residue  is  baked  in  a clay 
platter,  and  should  be  turned  over  with  the  hands  once 
during  the  process.  No  water  is  added  to  the  flour  before 
it  is  baked. 

This  flour  is  kneaded  with  water,  put  in  a pan  and  cooked 
over  the  fire.  The  result,  the  cassava  bread,  is  leathery  and 
tough,  and  when  one  speaks  of  “ bread  ” unleavened  bread 
must  be  understood.  It  is  never  allowed  to  brown,  the  outer 
crust  is  merely  hardened,  and  as  a result  the  cassava  cake 
has  always  a raw  uncooked  taste.  But  I found  that  if  one 
of  these  native  cakes  were  cut  in  small  pieces  and  fried  in 
animal  fat  till  crisply  toasted,  it  was  quite  good  eating, 
better  if  anything  than  ordinary  bread. 

The  Boro  leave  the  starch  in  the  cassava  flour,  so  their 
bread  is  more  sustaining  than  Witoto  bread,  as  Witoto 
women  remove  the  starch  and  use  it  for  other  purposes.2 
Boro  bread  is  also  thicker,  and  when  pulled  apart  is  of  a 
stringy  consistency. 

1 The  description  given  by  Fr.  Pinto  in  Dr.  de  Lacerda’s  eighteenth- 
century  journal  of  the  preparation  of  manioc  flour  by  the  Murunda  Kaffirs 
differs  only  from  the  Indian  method  in  that  the  root  is  not  squeezed, 
merely  soaked  till  “ almost  rotten,”  then  dried  and  pounded  (R.G.S., 
The  Lands  of  Cazembe,  1873,  p.  129). 

2 It  would  seem  that  the  Boro  use  what  is  known  in  Brazil  as  Farinha  de 
aqua,  and  the  Witoto  make  Farinha  secca  (cf.  Spruce,  i.  11-12).  Brazilian 
arrowroot  and  tapioca  are  products  of  the  manioc  prepared  in  different 
ways.  Only  the  Boro  and  Menimehe  make  Farinha  de  aqua. 


PLATE  XXXIV. 


BORO  WOMEN  MAKING  CASSAVA 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


133 


Spruce  mentions  a manioc  oven,1  but  this  is  quite  un- 
known to  me.  All  the  tribes  I visited  cooked  their  cassava 
on  large  earthenware  plates  on  an  open  fire.  Nor  could 
they  prop  their  cooking  utensils  on  stones,  for — as  has  been 
noted — stones  there  are  none  in  these  districts.  The  pot  is 
put  simply  on  the  three  logs  that  compose  the  fire  where 
their  ends  meet.  The  hot  embers  in  the  centre  give  plenty 
of  steady  heat,  and  if  more  be  required  the  pot  must  be 
placed  on  a tripod  of  branches  and  the  embers  fanned  with 
a palm-leaf  to  a flame. 

Among  the  Andoke  manioc  is  peeled  by  the  women  with 
their  teeth,  and  then  washed.  The  roots  are  pulped  with 
a grater,  and  the  starch  is  washed  out  by  adding  water  to 
them  in  a basket  suspended  on  a tripod  over  a calabash. 
The  partially  prepared  manioc  is  left  till  required  for  use 
and  will  keep  in  this  state  for  a week  at  a time.  When  they 
wish  to  use  it  the  grated  pulp  is  strained  in  a cassava- 
squeezer,  then  mixed  with  starch  and  sifted  through  a 
sieve.  The  fine  stuff  is  baked  immediately,  and  the  water 
that  was  drained  off  in  the  wringer  is  boiled  up  at  once 
to  make  a sweet-tasting  drink.  The  starch  will  keep  for  a 
month. 

Among  the  Boro  and  Witoto  the  manioc  water  is  boiled 
till  it  thickens,  and  is  then  used  as  a sauce  into  which  the 
cassava  is  dipped  before  it  is  eaten.  Another  way  of 
eating  cassava  is  to  dip  it  in  soup.  The  Boro  on  the  Japura 
concoct  a sauce  of  the  consistency  of  paste  by  seasoning  the 
manioc  water  with  peppers  and  fish.2 

Though  the  tuber  is  the  most  valuable  portion  of  the  plant 
it  is  not  the  only  part  used  for  food.  The  leaves  may  be 
eaten  as  a vegetable.  They  are  boiled  till  quite  soft  ; 
pounded  very  fine  with  a pestle  ; fish,  worms,  frogs,  ants 
and  peppers  are  added  as  seasoning,  and  this  brew  is 
eaten  with  cassava  bread  and  with  meat.  Another  method 
of  preparation  is  to  take  the  leaves  and  cook  them  in  the 
water  squeezed  out  of  the  roots  in  the  wringer.  This  sauce 

1 " A mandiocca  oven  (called  budari  in  Barre)  ” (Spruce,  ii.  477-8). 

2 Bates  noted  that  he  saw  Indians  on  the  Tapajos  season  this  sauce  with 
ants  in  place  of  fish  (Bates,  i.  318-19). 


134 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


is  boiled  in  an  earthenware  pot  suspended  from  a cross- 
beam, or  placed  like  the  earthenware  pan  on  a triangle  of 
sticks,  over  a slow  fire,  until  the  leaves  become  a paste. 
This  is  carried  in  a palm-leaf  as  an  emergency  ration  by  an 
Indian  when  going  into  the  bush. 

Cassava,  then,  is  the  Indian’s  “ staff  of  life.”  Its  com- 
plement is  the  hot-pot,  or  pepper-pot,  which  is  a “ generous  ” 
soup  supercharged  with  meat  that  forms  the  staple,  while 
the  liver  and  so  forth  are  added  to  enrich  the  brew.  It 
is  a standing  dish  with  the  aborigines.  Each  family  has 
a big  pot  that  simmers  constantly  over  the  special 
fires.  Into  this  go  all  things,  and  it  is  replenished  daily 
from  the  proceeds  of  the  kill.  Portions  of  animals  that  may 
not  be  eaten — blood,  brains,  intestines — can  be  utilised  in 
the  stew  ; and  everything  is  very  highly  qualified  with 
peppers,  the  chief  stimulant  in  native  diet. 

Wallace  has  suggested  that  the  excessive  use  of  peppers 
is  due  to  the  lack  of  salt.1  This  very  serious  need  is  not 
without  considerable  influence  on  the  Indian,  and  it  is 
possible — as  has  been  suggested — that  it  is  at  the  root  of 
more  than  over-indulgence  in  pepper.  Mineral  salt  is  not 
to  be  had,2  except  by  barter,  throughout  the  middle  Issa- 
Japura  regions;  and  what  little  the  tribes  can  obtain  is  chiefly 
secured  by  burning  certain  plants  with  saline  qualities.3 

On  account  of  its  rarity  salt  is  much  sought  after,  and  a 
present  of  salt  is  always  highly  appreciated. 

The  Indian  feeds  at  sunrise  after  he  has  had  his  drink  of 
“ tea  ” and  his  first  bath.  This  morning  meal  is  an  informal 
one  of  cold  cassava  cake,  and  any  meat  that  may  have  been 
left  uneaten  overnight,  or  a dip  in  the  hot-pot.  He  eats 
sparingly,  and  never  takes  much  of  a meal  if  a day’s 
march  or  a hunt  is  in  prospect.  Nor  does  he  carry  food 

1 Wallace,  p.  340. 

2 Simson  mentions  salt-licks  in  the  neighbourhood  of  the  Rio  Salado 
Grande  (Simson,  p.  238). 

3 The  ashes  of  the  drum  tree  (Cecropia  peltata)  “ are  saline  and  anti- 
septic ” (Spruce,  ii.  447).  “ A kind  of  flour  which  has  a saline  taste”  is 

extracted  from  the  fruits  of  the  Inaja  palm  ( Maximiliana  regia),  and  the 
Jar  a palm  ( Leopoldinia  major),  and  the  Caruru,  a species  of  Lacis  (Wallace, 
p.  340).  Cuaruru  is  given  by  Spruce  as  a native  name  for  Pogostemon  sp.  ; 
when  this  is  burnt  the  ashes  give  salt  (Spruce,  ii.  520). 


PLATE  XXXV. 


WITOTO  CASSAVA-SQUEEZER  BORO  MANIOC-GRATER  WITH 

PALM-SPINE  POINTS 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


135 


with  him,  unless  he  be  going  on  a journey.  Coca, 
which  of  course  is  but  a stimulant,  is  sufficient  sustenance 
in  his  opinion.  Still,  he  will  eat  a little  at  any  time  it  may 
be  possible,  and  there  is  usually  no  lack  of  fruit  for  the 
taking  in  the  bush. 

The  great  meal  of  the  day  is  towards  sundown  when 
the  hunt  is  over,  the  quarry  killed  and  cooked.1  Then 
all  the  men,  squatting  round  their  private  family  fires 
in  the  big  house,  help  themselves  from  their  hot-pot 
and  eat  to  the  limit  of  its  contents.  An  Indian  will  not 
take  a bite  at  his  food ; he  tears  whatever  he  is  eating  into 
small  pieces  with  his  fingers.  Among  the  Issa- J apura  tribes, 
as  with  the  Tukana,  men  and  women  do  not  eat  together, 
and  the  children  feed  with  the  women.  None  of  the  tribes 
have  any  special  observances  or  purifications  before  or  after 
eating,  so  far  as  I am  aware,  nor  are  there  any  general  re- 
strictions, except  so  far  as  carrion  and  the  intestines  are 
concerned.  But  even  these  may  at  a pinch  be  made  use  of 
without  prejudice,  by  resorting  to  the  simple  expedient  of 
blowing,  or  rubbing  with  a magic  stone,  the  two  antidotes 
for  all  evils  with  the  Indian.  There  are  temporary  food 
tabu  for  women,  and  certain  prohibitions  for  children. 
These  will  be  dealt  with  later. 

The  usual  method  of  cooking  is  to  rest  the  pot  as  described 
on  the  fire-logs  themselves.  Sometimes  the  pot  is  placed, 
like  the  pan  for  baking  cassava,  on  lumps  of  clay,  or  on  a 
triangle  of  sticks  roughly  made  for  the  occasion.  The  sticks 
must  be  long  in  comparison  to  the  height  from  the  ground 
that  is  required,  and  are  not  tied,  but  merely  so  adjusted 
that  each  supports  and  locks  the  others.  Such  a tripod 
makes  a firm  seat,  though  never  employed  by  the  Indians 
for  that  purpose.  I have  never  seen  pots  hung.  The  pot 
is  covered  with  a single  leaf,  and  the  soup  is  stirred 
with  any  stick  that  comes  to  hand  at  the  moment ; there 
are  no  special  ones,  nor  are  any  fashioned  for  use  as  ladles. 
Meat  is  almost  invariably  put  in  the  hot-pot,  but  occasion- 
ally it  is  toasted  over  the  fire. 

1 Cf.  Torres  Straits,  “ The  chief  meal  of  the  day  is  taken  at  night, 
soon  after  sundown;  the  remains  are  eaten  in  the  morning,”  iv.  131. 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


136 

When  the  women  have  cooked  the  food  the  men  help 
themselves  from  the  pot ; they  are  not  waited  upon  by  their 
women.  An  Indian  will  help  himself  from  the  hot-pot  at 
any  time  the  fancy  may  seize  him,  or,  for  that  matter,  from 
any  hot-pot,  so  long  as  the  owner  thereof  is  present.  The 
tribal  or  chief’s  fire  carries  the  tribal  hot-pot,  which  is  open 
to  all,  as  all  contribute  to  it,  at  least  all  the  unmarried 
warriors  must  do  so.  This  is  the  hot-pot  which  always 
remains,  and  the  fire  that  never  dies  out.  The  family  hot- 
pot and  fire  is  the  concern  of  each  individual  family  only. 

Fruit  is  to  be  had  in  plenty,  and  throughout  the  year 
in  this  country  of  endless  summer.  Not  being  a botanist, 
and  aware  that  some  of  the  most  tempting  fruits  held 
latent  poison  under  an  alluring  exterior,  I was  most  chary 
of  eating  fruit  unknown  to  me,  and  never  touched  any  until 
quite  satisfied  of  its  wholesomeness  from  its  effects  on  the 
Indians  ; nor,  mindful  of  the  fact  that  the  Indian  will, 
and  apparently  can,  eat  anything,  would  I venture  to  eat 
many  fruits  the  Indians  partook  of  as  a matter  of  course. 
Sweet  and  ripened  fruit  is  rarely  eaten  by  them  ; they  prefer 
a bitter  taste,  and,  as  mentioned  in  connection  with  sugar- 
cane, have  no  particular  use  for  anything  sweet.  The 
Indian  will  gather  fruit  and  bring  it  to  the  house,  though 
the  usual  custom  is  to  pluck  and  eat  it  in  the  bush.  So 
far  as  I was  concerned  especially,  it  was  brought  in  as  a 
present  to  denote  good-will. 

One  fruit  the  Indians  grow  in  the  plantations  resembles 
and  tastes  like  grapes.1  It  is  very  plentiful,  particularly  in 
the  old  plantations,  and  the  Indian  will  often  return  to  one 
of  these  in  order  to  obtain  this  fruit.  Another  fruit,  also 
found  growing  in  old  plantations,  is  the  colour  of  a lemon, 
and  the  size  and  shape  of  an  orange.  It  is  very  good  eating, 
extremely  sweet  when  ripe,  with  huge  black  pips,  and  the  part 
immediately  under  the  skin  is  gummy,  like  rubber  latex, 
and  sticks  to  the  mouth. 

A fruit  we  knew  as  the  mauve  berry  is  found  at  the  top 
of  trees.  In  size  it  approximates  to  a red  currant,  and  it 

1 This  is  probably  the  puruma  (Puruma  Cecropiaefolia  Martins)  men- 
tioned by  Bates  (Bates,  ii.  217). 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


137 


grows  in  large  bunches.  The  colour  is  a light  pinky  mauve. 
It  is  intensely  sweet,  and  according  to  popular  report  has 
an  intoxicating  effect  upon  the  eater.  It  certainly  appears 
to  have  very  heady  properties. 

Various  palms  furnish  palatable  fruits.  There  is  a small 
edible  palm  from  which  the  Indians  strip  the  bark  after  they 
have  cut  it  down,  and  remove  the  cylinder  of  hardened  sap 
which  is  of  the  same  consistency  as  a hard  woody  apple. 
It  is  heavy  but  rich-flavoured  and  good  eating.  Then 
there  is  the  cabbage  palm,  not  to  mention  the  pupunha. 

Nuts  and  seeds  abound.  There  is  a large  oval  seed  in  a 
fleshy  envelope  that  birds  feed  on  freely,  and  another  fruit 
with  a large  stone  is  the  wild  alligator  pear.  The  stone  of 
this  is  more  than  one-half  the  size  of  the  whole  fruit.  It  is 
delicious  in  taste,  and  is  looked  upon  by  both  whites  and 
natives  as  a great  delicacy.  In  shape  it  resembles  a pear, 
and  in  colour  it  varies  from  green  to  yellow  or  russet. 


CHAPTER  X 


Drinks,  drugs,  and  poisons : their  use  and  preparation — Unfermented 
drinks — Caapi — Fermented  drinks — Cahuana — Coca  : its  preparation, 
use,  and  abuse — Parica — Tobacco — Poison  and  poison-makers. 


If  the  Indian  eats  but  little  during  the  day,  he  drinks  to 
excess  whenever  opportunity  offers.  In  the  early  morning 
a beverage  somewhat  akin  to  tea,  but  colourless,  made  from 
an  infusion  of  bitter  herbs,  is  taken.  It  has  some  tonic 
properties,  and  when  I drank  it  seemed  always  to  have  a 
slight  taste  of  peppermint.  This  herb  infusion  is  the  first 
meal  of  the  day.  It  is  drunk  out  of  half-gourds,  after  the 
morning  bath,  before  the  members  of  the  household  disperse 
to  their  varied  avocations.  I am  under  the  impression  that 
this  decoction  is  made  from  a species  of  grass,  and  not  the 
Ilex  paraguayensis  from  which  mate,  or  Paraguay  tea,  is 
made.  It  is  probably  the  lemon  grass  mentioned  by  Sim- 
son.1  The  Indians  also  scrape  the  seeds  of  the  capana,  mix 
in  some  cassava  flour,  and  wrap  up  the  mass  in  plantain 
leaves.  This  is  left  to  ferment  in  water,  till  it  is  the  colour 
of  saffron  ; then  it  is  dried  in  the  sun.  This  is  drunk  as  a 
bitter  tea  in  the  morning  when  diluted  in  water. 

The  Indian  drinks  enormous  quantities  of  water,  or  un- 
fermented liquor,  at  times,  and  afterwards  can  abstain  like 
a camel  for  a considerable  period.  He  never  drinks  when 
eating,  but  afterwards.  At  a feast  or  a dance  when  he  is 
unable  to  drink  more  he  simply  pokes  his  fingers  down  his 
throat,  with  the  result  that  room  is  made  for  renewed  doses 
of  his  non-alcoholic  beverage. 

The  principal  unferment^d  drinks  made  by  these  tribes 

1 Yerba  Luisa  (Simson,  p.  61). 

138 


PLATE  XXXVI. 


ONE  OF  THE  INGREDIENTS  OF  THE  FAMOUS  CURARE  POISON 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


139 


are  prepared  from  manioc,  and  from  various  fruits.  The 
first  is  made  from  the  grated  manioc  by  merely  squeezing 
out  and  boiling  the  water,  and  is  thus  a by-product  of  cassava 
in  the  making.  This  leaves  a sweet  drink,  which  is  certainly 
insipid  and  is  not  considered  to  be  healthy.  The  moisture 
squeezed  out  of  the  “ squeezer  ” is  boiled  and  boiled  again 
into  a rather  thick  drink.  This  is  used  more  as  a sauce  into 
which  cassava  is  dipped  than  as  a “ clean  ” drink.  It  still 
contains,  I believe,  a minute  percentage  of  hydrocyanic  acid. 

Another  beverage  is  prepared  from  roasted  pines.  The 
juice  is  squeezed  out,  and  this  liquid  extract  is  ready  to 
drink  without  further  process.  Plantains,  bananas,  and 
other  fruits,  grated  and  mixed  with  starch  obtained  from 
the  manioc  tubers,  are  boiled  and  flavoured  with  local 
spices  to  make  another  concoction.  A thick  yellow  liquid 
prepared  from  the  Patana  palm  is  the  national  drink 
of  all  these  Indians,  except  the  Menimehe  and  Kuretu, 
who  make  fermented  drinks  from  pine  fruit.  The  Patana 
fruit  is  boiled  and  broken  with  the  hand  in  water,  so  as  to 
mix  up  the  pulp  and  allow  the  heavy  skins  to  fall  to  the 
bottom  of  the  pot.  These  and  any  fleshy  remainder  are 
strained  away  in  a sieve,  and  cassava  flour  is  added  to  the 
liquid,  which  is  drunk  while  warm.  This  drink  is  known  as 
patana-yukise  in  lingoa-geral.  There  is  a vegetable  milk 
that  is  consumed  by  the  Indians,  which  I take  to  be  the  cow- 
tree  milk  mentioned  by  other  travellers.1  I do  not  think  it 
is  very  plentiful  in  these  regions,  and  for  my  own  part  never 
saw  nor  tasted  it.  It  is  a creamy,  sticky  fluid,  obtained 
by  lacerating  the  bark,  that  can  be  drunk  when  fresh.  I am 
certain  these  tribes  do  not  use  it  for  any  cooking  purposes, 
and  do  not  think  it  is  ever  stored  in  their  houses,  but  is 
only  drunk  in  the  forest  from  the  tree. 

There  are  intoxicating  drinks  among  the  Menimehe  and 
the  tribes  north  of  the  Japura,  but  among  some  of  these 
northern  tribes  the  men  drink  caapi ,2  which  is  strongly  erotic. 

1 This  may  be  Mimusops  sp.  (Sapotacae)  or  Callo-phora  sp.  (Apon- 
cynaccae)  (Spruce,  i.  50,  224  ; ii.  520).  Bates,  i.  69  ; Spruce,  i.  51 ; Orton, 
pp.  288,  500,  581. 

- Caapi  is  known  as  aya-huasca,  the  drink  of  Huasca,  the  greatest  king 
of  the  Inca,  to  the  Zaparo  and  other  tribes  farther  west  (Spruce,  ii.  424). 


140 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


I would  suggest  that  caapi  is  unknown  to  the  tribes  south  of 
the  Japura,  except  probably  to  their  medicine-men.  It 
would  account  for  the  frenzy  of  the  latter  when  diagnosing 
disease,  and  so  forth,  which  quite  corresponds  with  the 
descriptions  given  by  Spruce  of  the  effect  of  caapi } 

The  plant  from  which  caapi  is  prepared  is  grown  in  planta- 
tions by  Indians  on  the  Uaupes  and  Issanna  rivers,2  and  by 
other  Rio  Negro  tribes.  The  drink  is  made  from  the  stem, 
mixed  in  a mortar  by  the  Uaupes  Indians  with  the  roots  of 
the  painted  caapi.3  The  pounded  mass  is  rubbed  through 
a sieve,  and  water  is  then  added.  Women  are  not  even 
allowed  to  touch  the  vessel  that  contains  the  caapi.  This 
intoxicating  liquor  is  unknown  to  me,  but  I heard  that  the 
Karahone  and  other  tribes  had  this  strong  drink.  Though 
known  on  the  Uaupes  to  all  the  tribes  it  is  said  to  have 
only  a confined  use  on  the  Rio  Negro. 

Other  drinks  that  are  to  be  found  north  of  the  Japura 
are  prepared  from  fermented  maize,  and  manioc.4  Caxiri, 
or  manioc  beer,  is  used  by  the  Menimehe,  the  Ticano  and 
Kuretu.  Tribes  on  the  Napo  drink  masato,  which  is  also 
made  from  manioc  that  has  been  partly  masticated  by  the 
women  and  then  left  to  ferment.5  They  make  another 
fermented  drink  from  bananas,  but  pines  are  principally 
employed  as  they  contain  more  sugar  for  fermenting  pur- 
poses. 

Before  a dance  the  women  of  the  Issa- Japura  region  pre- 
pare great  store  of  kawana,  a drink  made  from  the  yellow  pulp 
of  a pear-shaped  fruit,6  not  unlike  a mango,  with  a large  black 
seed  in  the  centre.7  The  liquid  is  stored  in  the  large  vessels 
made  by  the  primitive  process  of  stripping  off  a sheet  of 

1 Spruce,  ii.  419-21. 

: Banisteria  Caapi  (Spruce,  ii.  414). 

s Haemadictyon  amazonicum  (ibid.  p.  415).  This  is  only  added  by  the 
Uaupes  tribes. 

4 Both  Manihot  utilissima  and  Manihot  Aypi  (Spruce,  ii.  414). 

5 Cf.  Tylor,  pp.  179-80. 

c Paullina  cupana  (Spruce,  i.  180). 

7 Guarana,  " pro  panacea  peregrinantum  habetur  ” (von  Martius),  is  made 
from  the  roasted  seeds.  It  is  ‘ almost  identical  in  its  elements  with  theine 
and  caffeine  " (Spruce,  i.  181).  It  is  cultivated  on  the  Negro  as  an  article 
of  trade.  According  to  Bates  it  is  made  from  the  seeds  of  a climbing 
plant  (Paullinia  sorbilis ) (Bates,  ii.  134). 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


141 

bark  and  setting  it  end  up  on  the  hard  ground,  These  are 
usually  to  be  found  at  the  chief’s  end  of  the  tribal  house. 
One  of  these  impromptu  vats  will  hold  as  much  as  thirty 
gallons. 

By  far  the  most  important  of  the  stimulants  taken  by 
these  peoples  are  the  preparations  made  from  the  leaves 
of  the  common  coca  shrub.1  Coca  is  the  mescal  of  the 
Indian,*  and  possibly  a heritance  from  the  Inca  invaders  of 
bygone  centuries.3  The  use  of  coca  is  habitual,  not  inter- 
mittent. An  Indian  will  take  as  much  as  two  ounces  a 
day.4  All  Indians  use  it,  the  Bara  in  especial  being  heroic 
coca-takers. 

To  prepare  coca  for  use  the  sage-green  leaves  are  care- 
fully picked  and  fire-dried.  They  are  then  pounded  with 
other  ingredients  in  mortars  made  from  small  tree-trunks. 
The  pestle  shown  in  the  illustration  is  made  of  mahogany. 
Beside  the  coca  leaf  the  Indian  pounds  up  lime  that  is  pro- 
cured by  reducing  to  ashes  certain  palm  leaves,5  baked  clay 
that  is  scraped  from  underneath  the  fire,  and  some  powdered 
cassava  flour.  Whether  these  leaf-ashes  are  a form  of 
calcium  I do  not  know.  In  the  Sierra  powdered  coca  is 
mixed  with  pulverised  unslaked  lime,  or  with  the  ashes  of 
the  Chenopodium  Quinoa.  As  this  latter  is  one  of  the 
distinctive  Sierra  flora,  I presume  the  Indians  of  the  forest 
have  found  some  substitute  in  the  bush.  The  drug 
is  carried  in  a bag,  or  beaten-bark  pouch,  that  is  worn 
suspended  round  the  neck.  The  clay  and  palm-leaf  ashes 
certainly  neutralise  the  bitterness  of  the  pure  leaf,  and  it  is 
possible  that  in  these  foreign  ingredients  the  Indians  have 
discovered  an  antidote,  if  such  there  be,  to  the  worst  effects 
of  the  drug. 

The  Indian  by  means  of  a folded  leaf  shoots  the  powder 
into  the  cheeks  on  one  or  both  sides.  This  when  moistened 
forms  a hard  ball,  and  with  such  a wad  stuffed  between 

1 Coca  Erythroxylon.  2 Spix  and  von  Martius,  p.  153. 

3 Joyce,  p.  97.  4 Markham,  Peruvian  Bark,  p.  151. 

5 According  to  Bates  the  leaves  of  the  candelabrum  tree  ( Cecropia 
palmata)  are  used  (Bates,  ii.  211-12).  Spruce  has  the  imbauba  or  drum 
tree  ( Cecropia  peltala)  (Spruce,  ii.  447)  Markham  gives  the  quinoa  plant 
(Markham,  op.  cit.  p.  151). 


142 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


the  cheek  and  the  teeth  he  can  go  without  sleep,  food, 
or  drink,  for  several  days.  Coca  is  not  swallowed,  but 
gradually  absorbed  and  passed  down  with  the  saliva.1 

As  to  cocainism,  we  know  that  the  Indians  are  veritable 
cocaino-maniacs,  or  rather  coca-maniacs.  It  is  a matter  of 
great  regret  to  me  that  I was  unable  to  make  observations — 
may  I say  psycho-medical  observations — on  Indians  under 
the  influence  of  this  drug.  Perhaps  it  would  be  more 
correct  to  say  that  it  was  not  possible  to  observe  one  not  to 
some  extent  under  its  influence,  for  it  must  be  remembered 
that  the  use  of  the  drug  is  so  continuous  that  it  is  difficult — 
one  has  hardly  the  opportunity — to  differentiate.  Whether 
coca  permanently  injures  the  higher  brain  centres,  as  has 
been  suggested,2  is  unknown  to  me,  as  unknown  as  the 
Indians  themselves  before  they  developed  the  heroic  use  of 
the  drug.  The  evidences  of  its  effect  are  contradictory  in 
the  extreme,  and  vary  in  individual  cases.  In  my  own  case 
hunger  and  thirst  were  eliminated,  but  I was  unable  to 
establish  a tolerance  for  the  drug,  and  after  many  vain 
attempts  gave  it  up,  except  when  food  was  scarce  and  any- 
thing was  preferable  to  the  pangs  of  hunger.  I was  certainly 
able  to  make  greater  efforts  without  food,  but  its  effects 
were  evanescent  in  the  extreme,  and  were  soon  followed  by 
acute  vomiting  and  cramp  in  the  stomach.  The  nausea  may 
have  been  due  to  the  foreign  substances  with  which  the 
powdered  leaves  are  mixed  and  not  to  the  coca,  but  on  that 
point  only  a trained  opinion  could  be  of  value. 

Even  on  the  question  of  its  influence  on  the  appetite  it 
is  difficult  to  give  any  clear  ruling.  My  own  experience  was 
that  it  utterly  destroyed  the  appetite.  Possibly  the  Indians’ 

1 Re  effects.  Spruce  notes  that  it  had  little  effect  on  him  (Spruce,  ii. 
448).  One  of  my  companions  though  “ at  first  affected  . . . with  slight 
nausea  . . . soon  became  accustomed  to  it,  and  found  it  very  useful  on 
many  occasions  ” (Hardenburg,  p.  137-8).  This  is  interesting  in  relation  to 
my  own  continued  intolerance.  " in  Peru  its  excessive  use  is  said  to 
seriously  injure  the  coats  of  the  stomach  ” (Spruce,  ii.  448).  At  Ega  it 
was  regarded  as  a vice  only  to  be  indulged  in  secretly  (Bates,  ii.  21 1). 
Markham,  on  the  other  hand,  considers  it  “ the  least  injurious,  and  the 
most  soothing  and  invigorating  ” narcotic  (Markham,  op.  cit.  p.  152).  He 
even  recommends  it  as  a preventative  of  loss  of  breath  to  Alpine  climbers 
(ibid.  p.  153).  With  this  I cannot  concur. 

2 See  Appendix  for  this  and  other  notes. 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


143 


“ tolerance  ” accounted  for  the  fact  that  despite  the  use  of 
the  drug  they  invariably  eat  heartily  when  opportunity 
permits. 

The  dilation  of  the  pupil  caused  by  the  use  of  the  drug  is 
marked  in  the  Indian,  and  gives  a curious  expression  to  the 
eye.  On  account  of  the  darkness  of  the  iris  this  is  not  so 
markedly  noticeable  as  would  be  the  case  with  grey-eyed 
peoples. 

The  Tuyuka  and  other  tribes  north  of  the  Japura  use  as 
a stimulant  parica  or  niopo,  a wonderful  snuff  which  is  a 
strong  narcotic,  and  very  similar  in  its  effects  to  coca.1  It  is 
made  from  the  dried  seeds  of  a mimosa,2  and,  like  coca,  is 
mixed  with  quicklime,3  and  baked  clay.4  The  seeds  are 
roasted,  and  then  pounded  in  a shallow  wooden  mortar,  and 
the  snuff  when  made  is  packed  in  snail-shells  5 and  is  inhaled 
through  hollow  bird-bones  inserted  in  both  nostrils.  It  is 
used  for  curative  purposes  by  the  Uaupes  Indians.6 

The  Menimehe  and  Yahuna  tribes  take  snuff,  but  they 
neither  smoke  nor  lick  tobacco.  The  Uaupes  Indians 
smoke  enormous  cigars,7  but  none  of  the  tribes  south  of  the 
Japura  smoke  their  tobacco  ; it  is  only  licked.  After  the 
tobacco  leaves  are  gathered  they  are  soaked,  and  then 
pounded  in  a mortar  by  the  men.  Tobacco,  it  must  not  be 
forgotten,  is  tabu  to  the  women  in  any  form,  and  it  may  be 
noted  here  that  tabu  on  drink  and  drugs  is  far  stricter  than 
any  tabu  on  food.  The  latter  are  intermittent,  enforced  only 
in  special  cases,  or  at  certain  times  or  ages  ; but  the  tabu 
on  coca,  aya-huasca,  caapi  and  tobacco  is  always  binding 

1 Spruce  relates  that  a Guahibo  told  him,  “ With  a chew  of  caapi  and 
a pinch  of  niopo  . . . one  feels  so  good  ! No  hunger — no  thirst — no 
tired  ! ” (Spruce,  ii.  428). 

2 Mimosa  acaciodes  (Bentham).  “ A species  of  Inga  ” (Bates,  i.  331). 
The  seeds  of  Acacia  Niopo  (Humbolt).  Piptadenia  peregrina  (L.)  (Bentham 
and  Spruce,  ii.  427). 

3 The  Guahibo  use  no  quicklime  (Spruce,  ii.  426). 

4 This  is  curious,  but  I can  advance  no  reason. 

5 Or  “ a bit  of  the  leg-bone  of  the  jaguar,  closed  at  one  end  with  pitch  ” 
(Spruce,  ii.  427). 

6 And  by  the  natives  on  the  upper  Orinoco  (Spruce,  ii.  423). 

7 “ Two  feet  long  and  as  thick  as  the  wrist  ” (Spruce,  ii.  420).  It  " is 
smoked  in  the  ordinary  way  ” A long  cigar  is  also  smoked  on  the  Equa- 
torial Pacific  coast,  but  “ held  in  the  mouth  at  the  lighted  end  ” (ibid.  p.  436). 
This  is  common  amongst  negroes. 


144 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


on  all  women.  A little  thickened  cassava  starch  is  added, 
which  makes  the  mixture  into  a stiff  dark  liquid,  to  be  used 
either  privately  or  ceremonially,  as  already  described.  The 
tobacco-pot  shown  in  the  accompanying  illustration  is  made 
of  a thick  and  hard  nut-shell,  with  apparently  natural  holes 
that  are  stopped  with  pitch.1  Two  artificial  holes  have  been 
bored  through  for  the  string.  It  is  about  two  and  a half 
inches  long,  by  one  and  five-eighths  wide.  The  oval  hole  at 
the  top  is  five-eighths  of  an  inch  across,  and  through  it  the 
point  of  a stick  is  inserted  when  the  tobacco  is  to  be  taken. 

The  ingenuity  with  which  the  Indians  prepare  cassava 
flour,  their  staple  provender,  from  a poisonous  root,  though 
notable,  is  ordinary  in  comparison  with  the  intricate  pro- 
cesses which  the  poor  Indian’s  “ untutored  mind  ” 2 has 
elaborated  for  the  preparation  of  various  poisons.  Natural 
poisons  abound  in  the  forest.  There  is  one  tree  known  as 
the  poison-tree  and  credited  with  most  deadly  properties.3 
On  the  Issa  and  J apura  an  arrow-poison  is  made  from  putre- 
fying animal  matter  mixed  with  strychnos.  Good  poison 
is  very  rare,  and  very  much  in  demand.  The  most  potent 
preparation  is  made  by  the  Karahone,  who  have  great 
knowledge  of  poisons  and  are  by  far  the  cleverest  toxi- 
cologists. The  Menimehe  understand  poisons  to  some  ex- 
tent, but  are  not  the  equals  of  the  Karahone,  from  whom 
most  of  the  tribes  obtain  their  poisons  by  barter.  But 
poison  of  some  sort  is  always  manufactured  by  every 
medicine-man. 

The  most  important  poison  is  the  curare .4  It  is  made 
from  two  plants,  called  by  the  Witoto  ramu  and  pani  re- 
spectively.5 The  complicated  recipe  is  a treasured  heredi- 
tary possession.6  The  wood  of  the  Strychnos  toxifera  is  the 

1 Like  the  eyes  of  a cocoanut — to  allow  passage  to  the  budding  rootlets. 

2 Spruce,  ii.  413-55.  3 Bates,  ii.  288. 

1 Also  called  curari,  ourali,  worara,  wcorari,  urari,  ervadura.  " A 

powerful  South  American  arrow-poison  occuring  in  commerce  as  a blackish 
extract,  somewhat  resinoid  in  appearance,”  used  for  tetanus,  hydro- 
phobia, epilepsy  {Diet.  Mat.  Med.). 

5 Strychnos  castelmoeana  and  Cocculus  toxicoferus  (Hardenburg,  p.  136). 

0 " Many  ingredients  are  used,  such  as  several  kinds  of  barks,  roots, 
peppers  {Capsicum),  ants,  and  the  poison-fangs  of  snakes”  (im  Thurn, 
P-  3ii)- 


PLATE  XXXVII. 
4 


3 

INCISED  GOURDS 

i.  TOBACCO  POT  (WITOTO)  3.  RATTLE  (OKAINA) 

2-  ••  >•  (BORO)  4.  (BORO) 

5.  RATTLE  (WITOTO) 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


145 


most  necessary  ingredient  in  the  manufacture  of  curare.  It 
is  pounded  in  a mortar,  and  the  sap,  mixed  with  water,  is 
strained  and  boiled  with  peppers,  ants,  and  a variety  of 
more  or  less  noxious  material.1  When  it  is  sufficiently 
inspissated  it  is  put  into  the  small  pots,  about  an  inch 
and  a half  in  diameter,  in  which  these  Indians  carry  it 
round  their  necks,  in  readiness  to  smear  on  the  palm-spine 
points  of  their  darts,  arrows,  and  javelins.2 

1 Crevaux  gives  a long  description  of  the  preparation  of  this  poison 
(Crevaux,  pp.  268-337). 

2 According  to  Bates,  salt  is  considered  to  be  an  antidote  for  this  poison 
(Bates,  i.  247). 


L 


CHAPTER  XI 


Small  families — Birth  tabu — Birth  customs — Infant  mortality — In- 
fanticide— Couvade — Name-giving — Names — Tabu  on  names — Child- 
hood— Lactation  — Food  restrictions — Child -life  and  training — 
Initiation. 


Though  so  recognised  an  authority  as  Bates  is  responsible 
for  the  statement  that  the  fecundity  of  the  Amazonian 
Indians  is  of  a low  degree,1  because  as  many  as  four  children 
in  one  family  are  rarely  found,  it  is  open  to  doubt  whether 
he  and  his  successors  have  not  in  this  instance  confounded 
effect  and  cause.  It  is  certainly  true  that  the  normal  number 
for  a family  is  but  two  or  three,  yet  that  this  is  not  a question 
of  fertility  the  high  percentage  of  pregnant  women  would 
seem  to  disprove.2  The  numbers  are  remarkable  in  view 
of  the  fact  that  husbands  abstain  from  any  intercourse  with 
their  wives,  not  only  during  pregnancy  but  also  throughout 
the  period  of  lactation — far  more  prolonged  with  them  than 
with  Europeans.  The  result  is  that  two  and  a half  years 
between  each  child  is  the  minimum  difference  of  age,  and  in 
the  majority  of  cases  it  is  even  greater. 

The  main  reason  why  there  are  these  limited  families,  is,  in 
my  opinion,  not  a diminishing  birth-rate,  but  an  enormously 
high  percentage  of  infant  mortality.  The  test  of  the  sur- 
vival of  the  fittest  is  applied  to  the  young  Indian  at  the 
very  moment  of  his  birth,  for  the  infant  is  immediately 
submerged  in  the  nearest  stream,  a custom  that  easily  leads 
to  infanticide  in  the  case  of  an  unwanted  child,  or  one  with 
any  apparent  deformity. 

1 Bates,  ii.  200.  This  agrees  with  Darwin,  Descent  of  Man,  i.  128. 

- Dr.  Galt  considered  “ that  there  is  no  more  fertile  race  than  the  pure- 
blooded  Indian  of  the  Maranon  ” (Orton,  p.  465). 

146 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


147 


Another  accepted  opinion  with  which  I am  not  in  agree- 
ment is  that  these  girls  become  mothers  at  a very  early  age, 
and  that  when  only  fourteen  years  old  themselves  may  have 
already  had  two  children,  as  is  said  of  tribes  on  the  Tikie. 
My  experience  has  been  that  these  peoples  do  not  arrive  at 
the  age  of  physical  maturity  even  so  early  as  white  races, 
probably  owing  to  lack  of  nourishing  food  and  perhaps  in 
some  degree  to  the  retarding  and  depressing  effect  of  the 
forest  environment.1 2 

These  Indians  share  the  belief  of  many  peoples  of  the 
lower  cultures  that  the  food  eaten  by  the  parents — to  some 
degree  of  both  parents — will  have  a definite  influence  upon 
the  birth,  appearance,  or  character  of  the  child.3  Before 
the  birth  of  an  infant  the  mother  has  to  submit  to  certain 
definite  food  restrictions,  which  vary  with  different  tribes 
in  some  slight  degree,  but  are  all  rooted  in  the  same  idea. 
Among  some  tribes  all  animal  food  is  forbidden  to  any 
woman  throughout  the  entire  period  of  pregnancy,  and  this 
precludes  her  from  share  in  the  tribal  or  family  hot-pot. 
Among  the  tribes  of  the  Tikie  and  elsewhere  tapir  flesh  is 
prohibited,  not  so  much  because  it  is  considered  unhealthy, 
which  on  account  of  its  richness  it  certainly  would  be,3 
but  because  if  a mother  partook  of  any  it  would  be  looked 
upon  as  tantamount  to  allotting  the  visible  characteristics 
of  the  animal  to  the  unborn  child.  From  a like  cause  these 
Indians  imagine  that  the  child  would  have  the  teeth  of  a 
rodent  did  the  mother  eat  capybara  during  the  months  of 
her  pregnancy  ; it  would  be  spotted  like  a paca  if  she  ate 
that  beast ; or,  if  she  ate  bush-deer  flesh,  which  is  tabu  to  all 
women  after  marriage  among  the  Kuretu-language  group, 


1 Menstruation  has  been  known  to  commence  in  England  at  the  age  of 
eleven,  generally  in  cases  of  well-nourished  blondes,  and  in  exceptional 
cases  even  earlier.  It  has  been  known  to  occur  at  nine  years,  but  this 
was  induced  by  a severe  accident.  This  is  unknown  among  the  forest 
people.  I made  out  the  age  of  puberty  to  be  not  less  than  fifteen  for  girls, 
and  eighteen  for  boys,  among  the  tribes  I was  with. 

2 Cf.  Thomson,  The  Fijians,  pp.  179-80  ; Codrington,  The  Melanesians, 
p.  228,  etc. 

2 Tapir  flesh  is  undoubtedly  rich,  and  over-indulgence  wrnuld  have  evil 
effects  upon  any  woman  independent  of  other  conditions,  for  equally  it 
would  upset  a man. 


148 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


the  venison  would  make  the  infant  deformed.  Peccary  is 
tabu  among  many  tribes,  and  with  the  Witoto  during  the 
last  month  of  pregnancy  the  mother’s  food  is  limited  to  one 
kind  of  small  fish,  with  cassava  and  fruits. 

The  belief  that  ill  will  befall  the  unborn  infant  if  the 
mother  do  not  regularly  adhere  to  dietary  laws  is  strictly 
held  by  both  men  and  women.  To  give  birth  to  a deformed 
or  disfigured  child  is  the  most  disgraceful  calamity  that 
can  happen  to  any  woman,  and  therefore  all  possible 
precautions  must  be  taken,  and  any  animals  reputed  to 
possess  undesirable  characteristics  are  naturally  forbidden, 
lest  the  unborn  child  should  in  any  way  resemble 
the  appearance  or  take  the  characteristics  of  the  animal 
concerned.  The  prohibitions  are,  therefore,  definitely  tabus, 
inasmuch  as  they  are  believed  to  entail  the  penalty  of  de- 
formed or  malignant  progeny  upon  the  transgressor,  a belief 
very  binding  on  people  who  hold  that  to  some  extent  the 
consumer  absorbs  the  characteristics  of  aught  that  is  eaten. 

Nor  do  all  these  tabus  concern  the  mother  only,  for  the 
father  also  among  some  of  the  tribes  must  abstain  from 
meat  a short  time  before,  as  well  as  after,  the  child’s  birth.1 
This  recognition  of  a definite  connection  between  the  father 
and  the  child,  a more  intimate  connection  than  civilised 
peoples  recognise,  is  to  be  noted,  and  should  be  borne  in  mind 
when  considering  the  curious  custom  of  the  couvade,  which 
must  be  recorded  anon. 

Whatever  the  weather  may  be  no  accouchement  ever 
takes  place  within  the  house.2  When  birth  is  imminent 
the  expectant  mother  will  go  out  into  the  forest  with  some 
trusted  older  woman,  or  alone,  for  the  Indian  wife  is  quite 
willing  to  take  full  responsibility  without  any  further  aid. 
Among  some  of  the  tribes  north  of  the  Japura  the  mother 
is  accompanied  to  the  forest,  and  assisted  while  there  by 

1 A tribe  in  British  Guiana,  the  Macusi,  carry  this  idea  even  further, 
and  impose  such  restriction  on  a man  before  his  actual  marriage  (im 
Thurn,  p.  222).  I have  never  met  with  this. 

2 Wallace  in  his  account  of  the  Uaupes  Indians  states  that  “ the  women 
are  generally  delivered  in  the  house,  and  do  no  work  for  four  or  five  days  ” 
(Wallace,  p.  345).  This  does  not  tally  with  the  customs  among  the  Issa 
and  Japura  tribes,  at  least  I never  found  it  to  be  the  case. 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


149 


other  matrons,  who  have  their  faces  painted  red.  But  the 
Boro  and  the  Witoto  women  go  unattended  or  with  but  one 
female  attendant.  Neither  the  husband  nor  any  other 
man  is  permitted  to  be  present  whatever  the  circumstances. 

The  shelter  of  the  forest  gained,  the  woman  makes  a 
small  clearing,  and  spreads  a bed  of  leaves  on  which  she  sits 
down.1  Her  trouble  is  not  of  long  duration.  When  the 
child  is  bom  she  ties  the  umbilical  cord  with  fibre-string, 
and  then  bites  it  through,2  or  cuts  it  with  a wooden  knife. 
This  done  she  at  once  proceeds  to  the  nearest  water  and 
bathes,  after  which  she  returns  to  the  house.  She  wears 
no  covering  or  bandage. 

The  infant  is  taken  with  her  to  the  river  and  is  washed 
and  ducked.  If  it  survive  this  drastic  treatment  its  body  is 
covered  with  what  the  Witoto  call  hittagei,  that  is,  rubber 
latex,  over  which  a brown  or  red  clay  is  smeared.  Harden- 
burg  relates  that  he  was  told  this  was  done  by  the  Witoto 
“ in  order  to  keep  it  warm.”  3 I have  often  seen  the  process 
carried  out,  but  the  warmth  theory  never  occurred  to  me, 
and  none  of  the  Indians  suggested  it  as  a possible  reason  or 
gave  any  explanation  of  the  custom. 

As  I have  said,  with  all  these  tribes  infant  mortality  is 
very  great.  The  custom  of  submerging  the  new-bom  child 
undoubtedly  causes  an  immense  increase  in  the  number  of 
deaths.  This  led  me  to  inquire  why  they  persisted  in  such 
a fatal  course,  but  one  and  all  said  that  if  the  child  was  not 
strong  enough  to  survive  it  had  better  die.  This  is  the 
Indian  attitude,  and  explains  much  of  the  seemingly  ignorant 
or  harsh  treatment  to  which  young  children  are  subjected. 

Indians  do  not  care  to  have  large  families.  To  support 
a number  of  children  would  often  be  a matter  of  grave 
difficulty.4  But  foeticide  is  not  practised,  and  abortion  is 

1 These  Indians  adopt  a sitting,  i.e.  continental  (not  English  left  lateral) 
position  for  parturition. 

2 For  similar  treatment  elsewhere  see  Schomberg,  Reisen  in  Britisch 
Guiana,  ii.  66. 

3 Hardenburg,  p.  135. 

4 I cannot  help  thinking  that  some  infanticides  may  be  due  to  the  fear 
by  the  wife  that  the  husband  would  refrain  from  the  fulfilment  of  his 
debitum  conjugate  did  he  find  that  it  resulted  in  his  having  to  support  an 
unduly  increasing  family. 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


150 

probably  unknown  except  to  the  medicine-men,  who  would 
only  procure  it  for  their  own  purposes  or  protection.  Should 
destruction  for  any  reason  be  desired,  the  birth  would  be 
allowed  to  take  place,  and  the  child  afterwards  killed 
“ accidentally  ” during  the  subsequent  lustration.  Bastard 
children  are  undoubtedly  destroyed,  and  the  second  of  twins 
is  left  in  the  bush  by  the  mother  before  immersion  ; or, 
among  some  of  the  tribes  of  the  Kuretu,  if  the  babies  are 
of  both  sexes  it  is  the  girl  that  is  killed,  whichever  may 
have  been  born  first.  Otherwise  they  kill  the  second, 
because  it  is  obvious  that  the  second  is  the  transgressor, 
it  had  no  right  to  come,  and  it  is  a disgrace  to  bear  twins, 
as  these  people  hold  the  opinion  that  to  be  delivered  of  more 
than  one  child  at  a birth  is  to  lower  themselves  to  the  level 
of  the  beasts.  The  act  of  killing  is  performed  by  the  mother 
secretly,  at  the  parturition  if  possible,  and  the  body  would 
be  concealed  by  her  in  the  bush.1 

The  act  is  not  due  merely  to  cruel  or  callous  disregard  of 
infant  life.  If  to  be  sickly  and  deformed  is  an  undesirable 
state,  the  Indian  sees  no  reason  why  any  unfortunate  being 
should  be  condemned  to  live  in  such  a condition  ; and,  more- 
over, the  sufferer  must  handicap  others  as  well  as  itself  in  the 
strenuous  race  of  life.  Therefore  deformed  children  are 
never  seen.  A child  that  is  discovered  to  be  in  any 
degree  abnormal  or  sickly  at  birth  is  allowed  to  die  on 
immersion,  by  the  very  simple  method  of  holding  it  under 
water  till  life  is  extinct.  If,  however,  the  deformity  is 
not  discovered  till  after  the  child  has  been  brought 
to  the  tribal  house,  the  medicine-man  is  called  in  to  deal 
with  the  case.  If  the  mischief  be  beyond  his  power  to 
remedy,  he  declares  that  it  was  caused  by  some  evil  spirit 

1 Infanticide  is  a subject  open  to  unlimited  misapprehension  and 
misrepresentation.  Compare  with  the  above,  for  instance,  the  statements 
of  a missionary  among  some  of  the  Indian  tribes  farther  south.  Mr.  Grubb 
speaks  of  " a shrill  cry  of  pain  when  a child  perhaps  has  been  cruelly 
murdered  ” (An  Unknown  People  in  an  Unknown  Land,  p.  17).  A reviewer 
with  much  knowledge  and  experience  of  Paraguay,  remarks,  “ I never 
remember  hearing  the  women’s  shrill  cry  of  lamentation.  The  children 
are  killed  almost  immediately  after  birth,  as  secretly  as  possible,  and  no 
one  pays  much  attention  to  the  fact  ’’  (Seymour  H.  C.  Hawtrey,  for  R.A.I.). 
This  is  certainly  the  case  with  the  Issa  and  Japura  groups. 


PLATE  XXXVIII. 


KARAHONE  CHILD  BOKO  WOMEN  CARRYING  CHILDREN 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


I5i 

and  may  work  ill  to  the  tribe,1  so  as  a precautionary 
measure  the  wretched  little  creature  is  taken  out  and 
left  exposed  in  the  forest,  or  some  tribes  go  as  far  as 
to  bury  it  alive.2  This  is  done  with  no  intention  to 
cause  unnecessary  suffering,  but  simply  that  as  it  had 
to  die  it  might  as  well  die  by  suffocation  as  by  any  other 
means. 

If  there  were  an  epidemic  of  deformed  or  sickly  cases 
among  the  newly  born  it  would  most  probably  lead  to  a 
tribal  blood-feud,  as  it  would  be  most  assuredly  put  down 
to  the  evil  intention  and  craft  of  some  enemy.  Who  the 
latter  might  be  it  is  the  province  of  the  medicine-man  to 
determine. 

Except  in  the  above  instances  intentional  infanticide  is 
not  common.  Unintentionally  it  would  seem  to  be  very 
frequent.  It  might  further  be  resorted  to  in  time  of  famine, 
if  lactation  should  be  difficult  or  if  the  mother  were  to  die.3 
I know  of  one  case  where  a child  on  the  death  of  the  mother 
was  thrown  to  the  dogs — wild  dogs  are  the  voracious  beasts 
of  the  forest.  On  another  occasion  the  infant  was  buried 
with  its  dead  mother,  though  this  would  not  have  been  done 
had  any  one  been  willing  to  adopt  it.  Both  these  cases 
occurred  among  the  Witoto. 

Koch-Griinberg  found  that  among  the  Tuyuka  the  houses 
have  a small  chamber  at  the  end  where  a man  and  his  wife 
stay  after  the  birth  of  a child.  There  is  no  such  thing  among 
these  tribes. 

The  day  after  her  delivery  the  mother  presents  the  infant 
to  its  father,  and  then,  as  though  nothing  had  happened, 
goes  back  to  her  work  in  the  plantation,  and  spends  the 
day  toiling  in  the  fields  as  usual.  She  will  only  return  to 
feed  the  child  at  night.  But  the  father  remains  in  the  house 
with  the  baby,  for  he  in  his  turn  must  submit  to  definite 
tabus,  the  restrictions  and  prohibitions  of  that  curious 
custom  known  as  the  couvade,  “ a live  growth  of  savage 

1 Among  the  Ucayali  deformed  children  are  killed  because  they  “ belong 
to  the  devil  ” (Orton,  p.  321). 

2 A similar  practice  is  reported  among  the  Kuni  of  British  New  Guinea 
(Williamson,  The  Mafulu,  p.  178). 

3 Among  Zaparo  tribes  also  this  is  the  case  (Simson,  pp.  175,  183). 


152 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


psychology,”  as  E.  B.  Tylor  calls  it.1  The  baby  lies  in  a 
hammock  and  the  father  lounges  in  his,  and  there,  with  some 
tribes,  he  will  remain  for  from  three  to  six  weeks.2  The 
Witoto  are  more  casual  in  this  observance  than  the  Boro. 
Colour  seems  to  be  given  to  the  theory  that  couvade  marks 
a stage  of  emergence  from  matrilineal  to  patrilineal  or- 
ganisation, by  the  fact  that  among  those  tribes  where  relation- 
ship is  counted  on  the  father’s  side  couvade  is  apparently 
practised  far  less  strictly,  and  only  in  a limited  form,  as 
compared  with  the  descriptions  of  couvade  given  by  other 
writers  among  tribes  such  as  those  Sir  Everard  im  Thurn 
studied  in  British  Guiana,  where  definitely  matrilocal 
customs  are  still  extant.3  But,  however  limited  the  re- 
strictions, in  all  cases  the  father  abstains  from  hunting  until 
the  child’s  navel  is  healed.  He  must  not  touch  his  hunting 
weapons  even,4  nor  may  he  eat  the  flesh  of  any  animal  that 
has  been  hunted,  which,  as  regards  animal  food,  is  practi- 
cally the  same  tabu  as  exists  for  the  mother  before  the  child’s 
birth.  Fish  and  cassava  form  his  diet,  but  coca  is  not  tabu. 

Yet,  despite  his  enforced  deprivations,  the  Indian  father 
enjoys  himself.  He  has,  in  fact,  a very  easy  time  of  it, 
which  may  go  to  confirm  him  in  his  quite  genuine  belief 
that  his  actions  are  of  substantial  benefit  to  the  child.5 
Friends  will  assemble  in  numbers  to  express  their  joy  at  the 


1 Early  History  of  Mankind,  p.  247. 

2 This  is  one  of  the  many  supposed  indications  of  a possible  Asiatic 
origin  of  these  peoples,  “ remnants  of  a race  driven  into  the  mountains  by 
the  present  dwellers  in  the  plains,”  as  Tylor  says  of  the  Miau-tsze,  who 
also  practice  the  couvade  (op.  cit.  p.  295).  The  practice  is  as  widespread  as 
the  performance  of  the  medicine-inan  or  shaman,  though  not  invariably 
an  accompaniment  of  so  - called  shamanism  or  kindred  performances  : 
for  example  the  Arunta  have  medicine  - men  but  do  not  practise  the 
couvade,  the  Basque  people  have  couvade  but  no  medicine-man. 

2 In  support  of  this  theory  note  that  in  Melanesia  proper  couvade  has 
only  been  observed  “ where  the  child  follows  the  father's  kindred  ” 
(Codrington,  p.  228). 

* According  to  one  writer  some  Indians  go  so  far  as  to  remove  all 
weapons  and  furniture  from  the  house  (Clough,  p.  104). 

‘ With  the  Issa- Japura  tribes  the  father  is  subjected  to  no  such  torturing 
processes  at  the  hands  of  his  friends  as  are  recorded  of  other  tribes  and 
peoples,  " in  such  sort  that  from  being  sick  by  pure  imagination  they  often 
make  a real  patient  of  him  " (Tylor,  loc.  cit.  p.  288  et  seq.  ; J.A  .1.  xviii.  248  ; 
cf.  also  Crevaux,  Spix,  and  Martius,  p.  381  ; Schomburg,  Reisen  in  Britisch 
Guiana,  ii  ). 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


i53 


happy  event ; they  will  even  come  from  great  distances  for 
this  purpose.  There  is  much  talk,  and  all  exchange  coca 
and  lick  tobacco.  In  the  midst  of  the  congratulations  the 
medicine-man  will  arrive  to  deliver  his  opinion,  given  after 
due  consideration,  of  the  points  of  the  new-born.  Con- 
gratulations will  be  interspersed  with  numerous  ventral 
grunts,  as  signs  of  assent  and  approval,  with  the  decisions 
enunciated,  on  the  part  of  the  proud  parent  or  his  visitors. 
The  orations  will  be  interrupted  by  the  ceremonial  licking 
of  tobacco  between  the  medicine-man,  the  father,  and  his 
visitors. 

After  eight  days  the  child  will  be  named  by  the  medicine- 
man and  the  assembled  family.  The  name  given  among  all 
these  tribes  is  generally  that  of  the  father’s  father,  if  the 
child  be  a boy.  With  the  exception  of  further  ceremonial 
tobacco-taking  there  is  no  ritual. 

Boys  are  called  as  a rule  by  the  names  of  animals  or  birds ; 1 
girls  are  given  the  names  of  plants  and  flowers.  For  instance, 
among  the  Boro  a common  masculine  name  is  Pimwe, 
which  is  the  name  of  a white  water-bird  ; or  Eifoike  among 
the  Witoto,  eifoike  being  their  name  for  the  turkey-buzzard. 
My  own  name  among  the  Witoto  was  Itoma,  which  means 
the  sun,  that  sound  being  the  nearest  to  Thomas  that  they 
knew.  The  Boro  called  me  Pimwe,  the  white  ibis,  on  account 
of  my  white  bath-gown. 

No  Indian  ever  uses  his  name,  nor  is  he  called  by  it  when 
spoken  to  by  his  companions.2  One  will  speak  to  another 
as  tanyabe,3  that  is  to  say,  “ brother,”  or  Iero,3  Momaf  that  is, 
“ father  ” ; in  the  case  of  a woman  it  would  be  Gwaro,3 
Rinyof  which  is  “ mother,”  or  Tanyali,3  " sister.”  They  will 
never  address  each  other  in  more  direct  fashion,  and  if  one 
of  the  speakers  is  not  a member  of  the  household,  and  there- 
fore no  relationship  exists  between  them,  they  will  make 
use  of  some  expression  equivalent  to  our  “ comrade,” 

1 Bird  names,  as  is  commonly  the  case  in  South  America,  are  attempts 
to  repeat  the  cry  of  the  birds  themselves.  Kweko,  for  instance,  is  a most 
suggestive  name  for  a parrot.  Birds,  it  may  here  be  noted,  very  seldom 
sing  in  Amazonia. 

2 See  Brinton  on  this  subject.  Religions  of  Primitive  Peoples,  p.  196. 

Cf.  Howitt,  p.  739.  3 Witoto.  1 Boro. 


154 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


“ man,”  “ girl,”  or  other  generality.  The  Boro,  when  they 
wish  to  call  the  attention  of  a man,  cry  Mupe ! of  a woman, 
Muije!  As  I obviously  stood  in  no  relationship  to  any  of 
my  companions,  the  usual  congenital  term  of  address  could 
not  be  used  in  my  case,  and  if  I chose  to  run  the  risk  of 
giving  my  enemies  power  over  me  through  knowledge  of 
my  name  that  was  my  own  affair. 

This  objection  to  divulging  the  name  is  too  widespread 
to  need  comment.1  The  Indian  of  the  Upper  Amazons  is 
on  this  point  not  so  far  removed  from  our  own  old-fashioned 
country-folk.2  But  at  the  same  time,  though  they  would 
not  divulge  their  own  names  they  were  invariably  most 
curious  to  get  hold  of  mine,  and  made  great  efforts  to  pro- 
nounce it.  Whiff ena  was  the  usual  outcome  of  such  attempts. 
I also  found  that  the  Indians  had  no  objection  to  making 
use  of  any  name  I might  give  to  them,  presumably  because, 
not  being  their  true  name,  no  magical  dangers  were  possibly 
incurred  through  its  use,  such  as  would  be  probable  did  I 
call  one  of  them  by  his  or  her  own  proper  name.3 

Among  some  tribes  the  name  of  a deceased  person  will 
be  given  to  some  surviving  relative.4  This  is  looked  upon 
as  an  honour  to  be  bestowed  on  the  greatest  friend  of  the 
deceased,5  and  thereafter  this  new  name  is  considered  his 
private  name,  and  the  one  originally  his  thenceforth  ceases 
to  concern  him  in  any  way. 

With  the  naming  of  a child  the  formalities  connected  with 
its  birth  are  at  an  end,  and  once  the  navel  is  healed  the 
father’s  share  in  the  ceremonials  is  completed.  With  his 
return  to  ordinary  life  the  infant  reverts  to  the  charge  of 
the  mother.  Day  and  night  the  child  remains  with  her.  It 
is  carried  out  into  the  fields  when  she  sets  forth  on  her  day’s 

1 Cf.  Tylor,  Early  History  of  Mankind ; im  Thurn,  p.  220  ; Hodson, 
Naga  Tribes,  p.  176  ; Spencer  and  Gillen,  op.  cit.  p.  139  ; Brinton,  p.  195, 
etc.  ; Seligmann,  p.  140  ; Andre,  p.  16  ; Lang,  Origin  of  Religion,  etc. 

2 See  Folklore  Journal ; Mitchell,  Past  in  the  Present. 

3 Every  Indian  man  has  two  names,  his  own  name  and  his  secret 
name  (name  of  genitalia).  The  latter  is  generally  a significant  name,  and 
is  used  in  ribald  jesting  round  the  fire,  e.g.  " the  Okaina  (a  rodent)  went  to 
the  stream  to  bathe,”  etc.  etc.,  ad  nauseam. 

* The  converse  of  this  holds  good  elsewhere,  for  the  names  of  the  dead 
are  often  tabu.  See  Rivers,  Todas,  pp.  625-6  ; Tylor,  p.  142  ; Brinton, 
pp.  94-5.  6 Brinton,  p.  197. 


PLATE  XXXIX. 


BORO  WOMEN  CARRYING  CHILDREN 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


155 


toil  among  the  manioc  and  pines,  and  is  brought  back  to 
the  fireside  at  night  when  she  returns  to  cook  the  evening 
meal.  The  Witoto  women,  in  common  with  other  tribes 
in  the  vicinity,  carry  their  infants  in  a sling  of  beaten  bark- 
cloth  that  is  passed  round  the  forehead  and  hung  as  a bag 
behind.  At  a less  tender  age  they  will  seat  them  on  the 
hip,  and  small  girls  may  often  be  seen  with  a smaller  brother 
or  sister  astraddle  round  their  waists. 

The  Indian  mother  will  suckle  her  young  for  three  years, 
or  even  longer,  and  at  least  during  the  earlier  nursing  will 
have  no  connection  with  her  husband.  This  long  period  of 
lactation  is  certainly  due  in  a measure  to  the  scarcity  of 
food.  There  is  no  artificial  supply  or  substitute  obtainable 
in  place  of  the  natural  provision.  If  the  mother  cannot  feed 
it  the  child  must  starve.  The  child  is  fed  wherever  the 
mother’s  duties  may  take  her.  On  many  occasions  I have 
seen  a child  that  is  running  about  and  playing,  suddenly 
toddle  up  to  the  squatting  mother  intent  on  her  cassava 
making,  and  still  standing  suck  for  a few  moments  and  then 
toddle  away.  Not  less  remarkable  is  it  to  see  the  women 
milk  themselves  into  a palm-leaf,  a very  usual  custom  after 
the  children’s  teeth  develop.  The  leaf  is  rested  on  the  palm 
of  the  hand,  which  gives  it  the  necessary  cuplike  form,  and 
from  this  the  child  is  fed. 

The  prohibitions  with  regard  to  certain  foods  that  affected 
the  parents  before  and  immediately  subsequent  to  child- 
birth, continue  in  force  afterwards  so  far  as  the  children  are 
concerned.  Such  tabus  are  more  strictly  enforced  on  the 
girls  than  on  the  boys  ; and  their  diet  is  neither  plentiful 
nor  seemingly  of  the  most  nourishing  description.  Cassava 
cakes  and  fruits  are  permitted  them,  and  some  of  the  smaller 
bony  kinds  of  fish  among  fish-eating  tribes,  but  none  of  the 
better  kinds  of  fish,  and  no  game,  until  they  attain  maturity. 

There  is  no  childhood  as  others  know  it  for  the  little 
Indian.  By  this  I mean  no  innocent  childhood.  These 
forest  children  from  birth  see  all  the  life  of  their  elders,  hear 
all  things  openly  discussed,  and  the  very  games  and  jests 
of  the  babies  are  tainted  with  what  we  should  consider 
obscenity. 


156 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


Children  are  primarily  under  the  authority  and  protec- 
tion of  the  father,  but  any  authority  on  the  parent’s  part 
is  very  slight,  and  ceases  to  exist  altogether  where  the 
boys  are  concerned  once  the  age  of  puberty  is  reached.  Of 
course  even  a married  son  shows  respect  to  a father  if  they 
are  living  in  the  same  house.  Girls,  as  they  are  in  the 
care  of  their  mothers  or  some  responsible  elderly  matron  of 
the  tribe  until  their  marriage,  must  be  more  under  authority  ; 
and  virginity,  as  with  us,  is  strictly  protected  so  far  as  is 
possible.1  But  in  the  main  it  may  be  said  that  parental  con- 
trol is  only  a semblance,  and  filial  piety,  so  characteristic  of 
the  Inca  and  the  Chinese,  is  practically  unknown  : indeed, 
though  the  smaller  children  seem  very  fond  of  their  parents, 
after  a few  years  it  appears  to  be  almost  fashionable  to  dis- 
regard parental  authority  entirely. 

A child  is  not  considered  responsible  for  any  damage 
it  may  contrive  to  do.  If  it  commit  any  mischief  that 
entails  loss  to  others  compensation  is  claimed  from  the 
parents,  but  no  chastisement  would  in  consequence  be 
meted  out  to  the  little  offender.  Children  are  never  beaten, 
whatever  their  offences,  and  rarely  punished.  They  are 
looked  upon  as  the  potential  warriors  and  mothers  of 
warriors,  and  treated  very  differently  to  the  old  and  worn, 
who  may  be  left  to  forage  for  themselves.  The  parents,  in 
fact,  show  great  affection  for  their  children,  despite  the 
stoical  way  in  which  infant  lives  are  sacrificed.  Often  have 
I seen  the  father,  who  would  on  no  account  carry  food  or 
any  part  of  his  woman’s  burden,  however  heavy,  give  his 
small  son  a lift  over  the  bad  ground.  Although  he  will 
never  play  games  with  his  children  as  western  folk  do, 
the  Indian  father  will  do  his  best  to  please  the  youngsters 
and  make  them  happy.  He  will  make  little  javelins,  a 
small  blow-pipe,  a toy  sword  for  the  boys.  They  have  their 
miniature  weapons  from  the  tenderest  years,  and  imitate 
their  fathers  in  all  that  they  do,  just  like  the  girls,  who  go 
with  their  mothers  to  the  plantations,  and  take  a share  in 
women’s  work  as  their  form  of  play,  and  shoulder  a share  of 
women’s  burdens  when  hardly  more  than  babies  themselves. 

1 Pace  Ratzel,  ii.  128. 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS  157 

Their  games,  in  short,  are  all  mimetic.  They  have  no  games 
with  string  or  balls. 

It  follows  naturally  enough  that  there  is  little  or  no 
elaborate  ritual  of  initiation  among  most  of  these  tribes, 
so  far  as  I was  able  to  ascertain,  for  no  part  of  a man’s  life 
is  kept  secret  from  a child.  The  elders  simply  take  the 
young  of  each  sex  apart  and  teach  them.  Nor  is  there 
much  ceremony  on  the  attainment  of  the  young  warrior  to 
tribal  rank.  He  has  been  instructed  by  the  elder  men 
as  to  the  ways  of  hunting ; he  is  allowed  to  join  a tobacco 
palaver  ; he  is  presented  by  the  chief  with  a pouch  of  coca  ; 
he  is  permitted  to  lick  tobacco,  and  he  affirms  as  he  does  so 
that  he  wall  bear  himself  bravely  on  all  occasions.  There 
is  no  further  formality,  and  thus  he  enters  the  ranks  of  the 
fighting  men.  Among  the  Bara  after  a Jurupari  dance  all 
the  youths  of  pubertal  age  are  whipped,  which  is  considered 
to  be  initiation.  The  whipping  instrument,  made  from  the 
hide  of  the  tapir,  is  sacred.  Women  are  excluded  from  this 
ceremony,  and  they  believe  when  the  boys  shout  that  it  is 
the  expulsion  of  demons.  The  performance  is  regarded 
as  strictly  private,  and  if  a man  or  boy  tells  of  his  experience 
he  is  outcast. 

For  the  girls  there  are  some  secret  lodges  in  the  bush. 
But  how  far  this  is  an  Indian  custom,  how  far  a recent 
development  for  purposes  of  defence,  I was  not  able  to 
ascertain.  The  matter  is  not  one  on  which  the  Indian  is 
ever  communicative.  Certainly  among  all  the  tribes  in  the 
vicinity  of  the  much-feared  and  ever-raiding  Andoke,  the 
girls  who  are  bordering  on  puberty  are  segregated  in  the 
depths  of  the  forest  under  the  protection  of  old  and 
wise  women  of  the  tribe.  This  may  not  be  general,  and  I 
do  not  think  it  is  a universal  custom.  It  is  done  by  these 
tribes  principally,  I take  it,  for  the  protection  of  the  flower 
of  their  womanhood,  to  prevent  the  mothers  of  warriors-to- 
be  from  falling  into  the  hands  of  the  restless  thieving  Andoke. 
At  the  same  time  the  girls  are  under  instruction  of  their 
keepers,  they  are  taught  in  these  lodges  presumably  the 
duties  that  will  shortly  fall  to  their  lot.  They  learn  to 
dance,  to  sing,  and  to  paint  themselves  for  festivals.  It  is 


158 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


no  unusual  sight  to  see  a party  of  small  girls  painting  each 
other,  if  by  chance  one  haps  across  a secret  lodge.  This  is, 
I take  it,  in  the  way  of  practice,  the  Indian  girl’s  version 
of  her  civilised  sisters’  “ dressing-up  ” games. 

The  girls’  isolation  is  not  absolute.  There  is  always 
communication  between  the  hidden  lodge  and  the  tribal 
house,  but  such  communication  is  made  with  due  care, 
no  path  is  ever  cut  or  worn  to  the  hiding-place,  and  if 
one  develops  by  usage  it  is  speedily  blocked  the  moment 
it  is  noticeable.  When  no  inimical  raiders  are  about,  and 
all  is  considered  safe,  the  girls  repair  to  the  tribal  house, 
but  no  girl  is  allowed  to  return  to  the  tribe  for  good  until 
such  time  as  a marriage  has  been  arranged  for  her. 

One  writer  on  the  Jivaro  tribes  mentions  festivities  held 
when  a four-year  old  child  is  first  initiated  into  the  art  of 
smoking.1  This  could  never  occur  among  any  of  the  tribes 
on  the  Japura  or  the  Issa,  where  it  has  been  seen  tobacco  is 
only  licked.  Boring  the  ears,  nose,  and  lips  of  the  adol- 
escent is  done  when  they  go  to  the  lodges  at  the  age  of 
puberty.  It  is  very  carefully  carried  out,  and  is  probably 
done  with  their  ordinary  boring  instrument,  the  tooth  of  a 
capybara.  Among  the  Menimehe  the  tribal  marks  are 
tattooed  on  face  and  breast  at  this  time. 

I have  not  met  with  the  custom  mentioned  by  Sir  Clement 
Markham  as  existing  among  the  Mariama,  of  a man  cutting 
lines  near  the  mouth  of  his  twelve-year-old  son,  nor  has  the 
scourging  of  the  Omagua,  and  their  trial  of  the  girls  by 
hanging  them  in  a net  to  smoke  them,  come  under  my 
observation,  any  more  than  the  cruel  scourging  of  girl 
children  mentioned  by  Clough,2  though  boys  on  the  Apa- 
poris  are  thrashed,  and  I have  heard  of  the  custom  north 
of  the  Japura.  The  Jurupari  dance  as  described  by  so  many 
authorities,  and  the  girls’  whippings,  as  noted  by  Wallace,3 
have  been  told  me  second-hand  by  these  tribes.  I have 
never  seen  either,  and  south  of  the  Japura  I believe  such 
customs  to  be  unknown. 

1 Sirason,  p.  92  ; Ratzel,  ii.  128.  2 Markham,  Clough,  p.  104. 

1 Wallace,  p.  360. 


PLATE  XL 


0KA1NA  GIRLS 


CHAPTER  XII 


Marriage  regulations — Monogamy — Wards  and  wives — Courtship — 

Qualifications  for  matrimony — Preparations  for  marriage — Child 
marriages — Exception  to  patrilocal  custom — Marriage  ceremonies — 
Choice  of  a mate — Divorce — Domestic  quarrels — Widowhood. 


At  the  beginning  of  my  stay  among  the  tribes,  I thought,  as 
many  have  asserted,  that  polygamy  was  common  among  the 
Indians.  The  reason  for  this  belief  is  simply  the  fact  that 
it  is  extremely  hard  to  distinguish  at  first  between  wives, 
concubines,  and  attached  women — women  under  the  pro- 
tection of  a man,  but  not  necessarily  in  intimate  relation. 
Inquiries  do  not  immediately  assist  any  conclusion.  If,  for 
example,  you  question  one  of  the  attached  women  she  would 
merely  reply,  “ I am  the  chief’s  woman,”  which  answer 
would  have  been  equally  correct  in  either  case.  But  on  better 
knowledge  of  their  languages  and  customs  the  conviction  was 
forced  on  me  that  monogamy  and  not  polygamy  is  the  rule, 
with  the  exception  of  the  chiefs  north  of  the  Japura,  who 
have,  so  far  as  I could  make  out,  more  than  one  wife.  Koch- 
Grunberg  affirms,  and  other  tribes  told  me,  that  among  the 
tribes  on  the  Tikie  a chief  may  have  four  wives.  This  is  not 
the  case  south  of  that  river,  where  chiefs,  like  ordinary 
members  of  the  tribe,  have  only  one. 

But  in  addition  to  his  wife  or  wives,  all  female  prisoners 
and  any  unattached  women  belong  by  right  to  the  chief. 
He  is  their  father,  mother,  and  husband,  in  so  far  that  they 
receive  his  protection,  though  the  wife  would  not  permit 
any  intimacy,  unless  it  were  when  she  was  bearing  or  nursing 
a child.  These  women  are  not  to  be  regarded,  however,  as 
what  the  Witoto  call  rinyo  kachirete,  that  is  tribal  prostitutes, 
although  other  members  of  the  tribe  beside  the  chief  are 

159 


160  THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 

allowed  to  have  access  to  them  when  his  consent  has  been 
gained.  The  prisoners  certainly  would  be  used  with  his 
permission  as  women  of  convenience.  So  far  as  I could 
gather  the  chief  respects  the  chastity  of  his  wards,  and  it  is 
therefore  unlikely  that  he  would  claim  any  droit  de  seigneur 
where  the  other  women  of  the  tribe  are  concerned.1  Le- 
toumeau  is  responsible  for  the  statement  that  “ in  America 
from  the  land  of  the  Esquimaux  to  Patagonia,  the  loan  of 
a wife  is  not  only  lawful  but  praiseworthy.”  2 I have  never 
heard  any  suggestion  of,  jus  utendi  et  abutendi,  and  consider 
it  unlikely  in  view  of  the  Indian’s  character.  He  is  not  only 
a jealous  husband  but  the  rights  of  the  wife  are  tacitly 
recognised,  and  I should  conclude  that  such  a custom  would 
be  entirely  alien  to  Indian  nature.  The  same  argument 
holds  good  in  the  case  of  a daughter. 

To  distinguish  between  wards  and  wives  is  so  great  a 
difficulty  that  I even  hesitated  to  accept  without  further 
confirmation  the  account  given  by  Wallace  of  polygamous 
practices  among  the  Isanna  and  Uaenambeu  tribes,3  careful 
as  he  was  over  all  details  of  things  about  which  he  had 
personal  knowledge.  But  I also  was  told  by  all  tribes 
north  of  the  Japura  that  it  is  permissible  to  have  more 
than  one  wife,  though  the  first  must  retain  the  position  of 
“mistress  of  the  house.”  4 It  possibly  resolves  itself  into 
the  question  of  whether  the  women  greatly  out-number 
the  men  at  a particular  period  or  not. 

Marriage  with  these  Indians  is  not  a matter  of  any  great 
or  prolonged  ceremony  or  even  of  festival.  A youth  marries 
as  a matter  of  course  when  he  reaches  man’s  estate.  Till 
he  has  taken  to  himself  a wife  he  must  remain  in  some 
degree  dependent  either  on  his  parents  or  the  chief  ; for 
he  cannot  plant  his  own  manioc  or  tobacco,  nor  can  he  cook 
his  own  food.  He  has  no  one  whose  duty  it  is  to  see  that 

1 According  to  Waitz  the  Carib  medicine-man  was  accorded  the  jus 
pnmae  noctis  ( Anthropologie  der  N aturvolker , iii.  382)  ; Westermarck,  p.  76. 
Von  Martius  also  attributes  this  custom  to  certain  Brazilian  tribes,  the 
chief,  not  the  medicine-man,  claiming  the  right  (i.  113,  428,  485). 

2 Letourneau,  The  Evolution  of  Marriage,  p.  52. 

3 Wallace,  p.  355. 

4 This  is  quite  usual  of  course.  See  Westermarck,  pp.  445-7. 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


161 


there  are  no  thorns  or  jiggers  in  his  feet,  to  paint  him  for 
a dance,  to  prepare  him  store  of  drinks.  Complete  inde- 
pendence comes  only  when  with  his  own  woman  he  can,  if 
he  so  pleases,  go  his  own  way,  and  live  in  solitude  out  in  the 
forest  or  have  his  own  fire  in  the  shelter  of  the  big  maloka, 
just  as  it  suits  his  whim.  To  secure  this  independence,  to 
get  his  woman,  he  is  required  in  the  first  place  to  show  that 
he  is  a capable  hunter  and  warrior,  that  is  to  say  he  must 
demonstrate  the  fact  that  he  can  feed  and  protect  a wife 
and  children.1  But  there  is  no  scheme  in  any  way  approxi- 
mating to  the  customs  of  those  African  peoples  who  rule 
that  a man  must  have  killed  his  man  before  he  can  be  con- 
sidered a proved  warrior,  and  qualified  for  matrimony. 
It  is  sufficient  if  he  be  a hunter  by  repute  in  the  generality 
of  cases,  though  among  the  Uacarra  and  some  other  tribes, 
as  noted  by  Wallace,  an  exhibition  of  skill  is  demanded.2 
A girl  of  these  tribes  will  not  marry  a man  who  did  not 
prove  a good  shot  in  an  archery  trial  held  for  the  purpose 
of  testing  his  prowess,  the  reason  alleged  being  that  he 
cannot  be  sufficiently  adept  to  maintain  a family.  This 
is  the  underlying  idea  in  all  the  ceremony  attached  to  the 
transaction  of  marriage  among  these  Indians,  of  a piece 
with  all  their  doings  and  sentiments.  There  is  no  use  for 
the  unfit.  It  is  the  philosophy  of  the  forest  in  practical 
form. 

Further,  in  view  of  his  prospective  position  as  husband 
and  father,  there  are  certain  preparations,  elementary 
enough,  to  be  made  by  the  bridegroom.  From  the  surround- 
ing forest  a plot  of  land  must  be  reclaimed,  the  trees  felled 
and  uprooted,  the  soil  broken  and  roughly  tilled,  for  the 
plantation.  This  is  an  absolute  necessity,  the  agricultural 
is  far  more  vital  than  any  housing  problem,  for  that  is  a 
point  easy  enough  to  settle,  as  the  intending  bridegroom 
need  not  build  himself  a house  at  all,  if  he  can  obtain  a 
comer  in  the  great  house  of  assembly.  There  is  nothing 
to  prevent  him  from  building  one  on  his  own  account  if  he 
is  not  content  with  the  quarters  there  allotted  to  him,  though 

1 Cf.  custom  among  the  Muskoks  (Ratzel,  ii.  125.  See  also  im  Thurn, 
p.  221  ; Westermarck,  p.  18).  2 Wallace,  p.  346. 

M 


1 62 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


the  usual  arrangement  is  for  a man  to  bring  his  wife  to  live 
with  his  family  rather  than  to  start  a separate  establishment. 

Betrothals  are  often  made  in  childhood  by  arrangement 
between  the  parents,  and  occasionally  a small  boy  is  married 
to  a small  girl.  This  is  not  common,  but  I have  seen  it  done 
in  the  case  of  a chief  more  than  once.  On  one  occasion  that 
I remember  it  was  among  the  Andoke,  another  time  it  was 
in  a Boro  house.  The  ceremony  is  the  same  as  for  adults, 
but  naturally  only  in  form.  Among  some  tribes  of  the 
Andoke  such  child  marriage  is  allowed  if  the  boy  has  made 
a plantation  and  successfully  hunted  an  animal,  and  either 
his  or,  more  rarely,  the  girl’s  family  will  admit  them  to 
joint  life,  and  one  Witoto  man  told  me  that  he  had  been 
married  as  quite  a youngster.  But  the  general  disparity  of 
age  is  from  five  to  fifteen  years,  for  a man  will  choose  an 
undeveloped  girl,  perhaps  only  nine  or  ten  years  old,  and 
hand  her  over  to  the  women  of  his  own  family.1  The 
Andoke  usually  marry  girls  much  younger  than  themselves, 
and  I have  seen  a man  of  twenty  with  a tiny  girl-wife  hurry- 
ing after  him.  Undoubtedly  the  idea  is  the  same  as  that 
underlying  infant  marriage  in  India,  the  man  seeks  to  gain 
affection  by  association.  The  girl  lives  with  him  and  his 
people,  they  become  to  all  intents  and  purposes  her  people  ; 
she  is  trained  by  custom  to  their  habits  of  life,  must  natur- 
ally imbibe  their  ideas,  and  will  bring  no  foreign  notions  of 
manners  or  morals  to  disturb  the  equanimity  of  the  common 
household  when,  in  due  time,  she  attains  pubescence,  and 
is  made  a wife  de  facto  as  well  as  de  jure.2 

In  the  ordinary  run  of  events  the  woman  invariably 
comes  to  live  with  the  man’s  family,  he  never  goes  to  hers. 
Only  in  rare  cases  have  I heard  anything  approaching  the 
matrilocal  customs  noted  among  the  Indians  of  British 
Guiana.3  These  cases  would  be  exclusively  when  a chief, 

1 Westermarck  puts  the  disparity  of  years  at  from  five  to  six  among 
natives  of  Brazil  (op.  cit.  p.  137  ; Spix  and  Martius,  ii.  248). 

1 This  invariably  takes  place  in  the  forest,  for  no  intimacy,  even 
between  husband  and  wife,  is  ever  permitted  in  the  publicity  of  the 
house.  According  to  Westermarck  a similar  custom  prevailed  in  Fiji 
(op.  cit.  pp.  151-2),  but  this  is  denied  by  Thomson,  The  Fijians,  p.  202. 

3 im  Thurn,  pp.  186,  221. 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


163 


who  has  no  son,  marries  his  daughter  to  some  man  with  a 
view  to  obtaining  an  heir  through  her.  The  man  might  be 
selected  from  friendly  neighbours,  or,  with  the  approval  of 
the  tribe,  an  adopted  son  of  the  chief  might  be  chosen.  If 
the  former,  the  bridegroom  would  have  to  leave  his  own 
people  and  live  with  his  father-in-law.  How  exceptional 
this  is  may  be  judged  from  the  fact  that  it  is  the  sole  cir- 
cumstance of  which  I am  aware  where  disregard  is  permitted 
to  the  prevailing  rules  of  patrilocal  and  exogamous  customs. 
This  is,  however,  hearsay  only.  I never  met  with  a case  in 
point,  though  the  Indians  told  me  of  it. 

Individual  preliminaries  settled,  it  remains  for  sanction 
to  be  obtained  from  the  chief  of  the  girl’s  household — to 
whom,  it  must  be  remembered,  all  unattached  women 
belong — with  which  end  in  view  the  would-be  bridegroom 
presents  him  with  a pot  of  tobacco  and  one  of  coca.1  He 
need  ask  no  one’s  consent  of  his  own  account,  as  in  marriage 
the  man  has  an  absolutely  free  hand,  unless  he  goes  against 
tribal  law  by  marrying  a girl  of  any  hostile  tribe  who 
might  prove  to  be  a danger  to  the  community.  As  proof 
that  he  is  a man  of  substance  and  owns  a house,  or  has  a 
recognised  right  to  quarters  in  one,  he  will  bring  a piece  of 
palm  shingle  that  has  been  left  over  after  the  thatching,  to 
the  father  of  the  selected  damsel.  He  also  brings  a small 
tree  cut  through,  to  show  that  he  has  cleared  and  made  a 
plantation.  In  both  cases  the  form  would  appear  to  be 
accepted  without  the  actuality.  The  father  then  produces 
some  coca  and  tobacco.  North  of  the  Japura  they  will 
chew  pataca ,2  and  they  will  lick  tobacco  ceremonially  to- 
gether. There  is  no  further  ceremony,  and  a fortnight 
later  the  marriage  is  consummated,  the  girl  remaining  with 
her  own  people  during  the  interval.3 

Robuchon  and  Hardenburg,  in  dealing  with  this  formality 
of  presenting  wood,  have  taken  the  action  to  be  that  the 

1 As  De  Morgan  remarked  of  a somewhat  similar  practice  among  the 
Sakai  of  Perak,  this  is  a form  of  marriage  by  purchase  “ modified  by  the 
smallness  of  the  price  paid  ...  a purely  formal  substitute  ” ( Bulletin  de 
la  Sociile  N ormande  de  Geograpkie,  vii.  422  ; Skeat  and  Blagden,  ii.  60-61. 

1 Or  potacea,  a nut  of  bitter  taste  the  size  of  an  acorn. 

3 See  von  Martius,  i.  113.  For  similar  instances  cf.  Westermarck,  p.  151. 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


164 

suitor  wishes  to  provide  his  future  parents-in-law  with  a 
supply  of  firewood.  Though  in  other  details  of  marriage 
ceremonial  they  are  exactly  correct,  both  these  authorities 
seem  to  have  mixed  the  idea  of  firewood — a matter  it  is 
never  the  son  - in  - law’s  business  to  prepare — with  this 
symbolic  offering,  which  is  intended  to  signify  that  his 
patch  of  ground  for  cultivation  is  prepared  and  only  waiting 
for  the  woman  to  plant  and  cultivate  it. 

If  the  information  given  me  about  tribes  north  of  the 
Japura  is  correct,  a more  primitive  marriage  custom 
still  maintains  among  their  neighbours.  The  suitor, 
accompanied  by  his  father  and  other  relatives,  visits  the 
father  of  the  chosen  lady.  Notice  of  the  arrival  having 
duly  been  sent,  the  object  of  such  a formal  visit  is  under- 
stood, though  not  definitely  stated  beforehand.  If  the 
suggestion  meets  with  favour  the  visitors  are  welcomed 
with  a feast.  Two  or  three  days  later,  in  the  middle  of  the 
festivities,  the  bridegroom’s  party  suddenly  kidnap  the 
bride,  without  any  show  of  opposition  on  the  part  of  her 
friends  and  family.  She  is  carried  off  to  the  visitors’ 
canoes,  and  the  pair  thenceforward  may  consider  themselves 
to  be  man  and  wife  without  further  ceremony.1  Though  I 
never  met  with  this  custom  in  the  districts  near  the  middle 
Issa  and  Japura  rivers,  all  the  tribes  told  me  of  it,  and 
among  the  Kuretu,  so  I was  informed,  the  ceremony  is 
even  more  suggestive  of  marriage  by  capture,  as  it  is  a point 
of  honour  for  the  bride  to  scream  and  protest  while  the 
groom  carries  her  off  with  mock  assistance  from  his  friends.2 

In  every  marriage  the  contracting  parties  are  allowed 
complete  freedom  of  choice.  This  is  absolute  on  the  part  of 
the  man,  and,  with  the  rare  exception  of  young  girls  adopted 
into  a family  with  a view  to  marriage,  equally  so  on  the 
part  of  the  woman.  The  unmarried  women  are  never 
objects  of  barter.  The  man  neither  pays  for  his  wife,  nor 
does  he  receive  dowry  with  her  With  marriage  he  assumes 

1 This  confirms  the  account  given  by  Wallace,  p.  346  ; von  Martius, 
i.  600. 

1 See  for  similar  etiquette,  Alcedo-Thompson,  Dictionary  of  America 
and  the  West  Indies,  i.  416  ; E.  R.  Smith,  The  Aurocanians,  p.  215  ; Wester- 
marck,  PP.3S3-4. 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


165 


entire  responsibility  for  wife  and  family.  Girls  rarely  refuse 
an  offer  made  to  them.  They  occupy  an  inferior  position 
in  the  family  compared  with  that  of  the  sons.  By  education 
and  custom  they  are  subservient  to  the  wishes  of  the  elders. 
As  they  grow  older  and  have  to  take  their  share  of  the 
communal  work  they  lose  what  independence  they  had  as 
irresponsible  children.  By  marriage  alone  can  the  native 
girl  obtain  a comer  of  her  own  in  the  maloka,  a desirable 
sleeping-place  beside  the  fire.  A man  is  not  forced  upon  her 
against  her  will.  One  bachelor  is  to  all  intents  and  purposes 
as  eligible  as  any  other.  Personal  appearance,  where  all 
who  attain  puberty  are  of  necessity  healthy  and  well  formed, 
counts  for  little.  The  battle  of  Eugenics  is  fought  at  birth 
not  at  marriage.  Whereas  a boy  becomes  independent 
almost  from  the  date  of  his  first  breech  clout,  the  girl  has  her 
freedom  curtailed  with  each  succeeding  year.  Food  tabus 
have  schooled  her  appetite.  She  has  suffered  the  restraints  of 
the  secret  lodge.  Marriage  is  her  destiny,  she  neither  knows 
nor  desires  an  alternative.  Such  an  upbringing  does  not  make 
for  capriciousness  where  choice  of  a husband  is  concerned. 
She  can  always  run  away  if  her  husband  prove  displeasing, 
but  in  the  majority  of  cases,  unless  subjected  to  very  decided 
ill-usage,  it  never  enters  into  the  head  of  any  wife  so  to 
behave.  Peoples  who  will  submit  to  the  tyranny  of  a few 
blackguardly  oppressors,  and  make  hardly  an  effort  in  self- 
defence,  do  not  rebel  against  the  obvious  in  everyday  life. 
Pia,  “it  is  so,”  makes  as  much  for  demoralising  inertia 
as  Kismet.  In  short,  there  is  no  coercion  in  an  Indian  girl’s 
wedding,  and  equally  no  opportunity  for  original  selection. 

This  question  of  personal  acquiescence  rules  throughout 
their  matrimonial  relations,  for  with  these  Indians  the 
marriage  contract  is  only  binding  so  long  as  husband  and 
wife  desire  to  be  bound.  Divorce  is  simple.  For  good 
cause  shown  the  husband  can  rid  himself  of  his  wife,  and 
be  free  to  try  for  better  fortune  with  another.  He  has  only 
to  bring  the  matter  up  in  tobacco  palaver,  and  if  he  can 
make  good  his  cause  he  need  not  trouble  further  : he  is  free.1 

1 This  seems  to  be  the  same  as  the  Hottentot  custom  (Kolben,  Present 
State  of  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope,  i.  157). 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


166 

Infidelity,  bad  temper,  disease,  laziness,  disobedience,  or 
childlessness,  is  deemed  a sufficiently  weighty  objection  in 
a wife  to  warrant  such  action.  Tribal  opinion  is  in  every 
case  the  chief  criterion  in  the  business. 

On  the  part  of  the  wife  the  matter  is  simpler  yet.  She 
will  run  away.  A woman  is  never  blamed  for  deserting  her 
husband,  on  the  presumption  that  such  unnatural  procedure 
could  alone  be  due  to  the  fact  that  she  had  been  not  only 
ill-treated  but  grossly  ill-treated  by  him.  For  an  indepen- 
dent woman  is  unknown  among  the  Indians  : if  she  is  not 
under  the  protection  of  some  man  she  is  left  in  the  lurch, 
and  if  she  does  not  speedily  find  a protector  must  very 
surely  die.  Moreover  it  is  obvious  that  when  a woman 
runs  away  she  must  leave  her  children,  and  only  gross 
cruelty  will  drive  her  to  that. 

If,  on  the  other  hand,  a man  divorce  his  wife,  that  is  to 
say  if  he  drives  her  away  from  him  and  so  forces  her  out  of 
the  household,  he  lays  himself  open  to  severe  tribal  censure 
should  the  consensus  of  opinion  be  that  no  good  cause  has 
been  shown.  If  upon  inquiry  he  fails  to  establish  a satis- 
factory excuse,  he  promptly  is  held  up  to  ridicule  by  his 
fellows  ; he  is  the  butt  of  all  the  women  ; and  he  will 
certainly  find  it  a most  difficult  thing  to  remarry,  for  no 
woman  will  ever  consent  to  be  his  wife.  In  fact,  tribal 
censure  results  in  the  practical  banishment  of  the  offender, 
for  his  life  in  the  tribal  family  will  be  made  unendurable 
till  such  time  as  his  offence  be  forgotten.  The  end  of 
this  persecution,  and  his  return  to  tribal  rights  and  privi- 
leges, depends  entirely  on  his  ability  to  prove  and  persuade 
his  fellows  that  after  all  he  was  not  the  one  to  be  blamed. 

When  a woman  quarrels  with  her  man,  or  wishes  to 
revenge  any  wrong  she  may  have  suffered  at  his  hands, 
real  or  imaginary,  she  will  dart  at  the  loin-cloth  of  the 
offender  in  the  presence  of  the  tribe  and  attempt  to  tear  it 
away  so  as  to  expose  him  to  his  fellows.  No  insult  could 
be  greater,  for  this  is  the  worst  disgrace  that  can  happen  to 
a man.  Should  this  occur,  the  victim  must  run  into  the 
forest  and  hide  himself ; nor  can  he  return  until  he  has 
beaten  out  a new  bark  loin-cloth  to  replace  the  one  that  was 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS  167 

tom,  and  so,  once  more  decently  attired,  he  may  come  back 
and  apologise  to  the  tribe.  The  pair  will  then  go  off  together 
into  the  bush,  and,  according  to  circumstances,  the  wrong- 
doer undergoes,  or  perhaps  they  mutually  undergo,  a very 
painful  penance.  The  wronged  one  takes  one  or  more  of 
the  big  black  stinging  ants,  and  places  them  on  the  most 
sensitive  and  private  parts  of  the  other’s  body.  The  sting 
of  the  virulent  insects  not  only  gives  intense  pain,  but 
results  in  fever  within  twenty-four  hours,  and  there  is 
much  swelling  of  the  parts  affected.1  This  is  the  recognised 
mode  of  punishment  after  any  conjugal  infidelity,  or  any 
ordinary  separation  ; and,  repentance  thus  very  practically 
expressed  by  submission  to  torture,  forgiveness  follows  and 
good  relations  are  again  restored. 

When  a man  dies  the  top  ligatures  of  his  widow  are 
cut  as  a sign  of  mourning,  and  are  only  replaced  if  she 
marries  again.  There  is  no  prohibition  against  remarriage, 
though  this  is  not  permitted  till  some  months  after  the 
husband’s  death.  As  a rule,  on  a man’s  death  his  widow 
continues  to  live  with  his  people,  either  under  the  pro- 
tection of  the  chief,  or  under  that  of  her  dead  husband’s 
brother.  If  her  own  people  are  not  hostile  to  the  tribe  into 
which  she  married  she  may  return  to  them,  but  the  proba- 
bility is  that  the  tribes  will  have  drifted  apart,  even  if 
they  have  not  become  enemies.  Very  frequently  widows 
become  the  tribal  prostitutes,  a custom  that  is  not  recog- 
nised, but  is  tolerated,  and  is  never  practised  openly  or 
immodestly.2 

1 These  are,  I believe,  the  same  ants  that  are  used  in  the  manufacture 
of  the  curare  poison.  They  are  fairly  common.  In  lingoa-geral  they  are 
called  tucaudera. 

2 “ The  Carayas  maintain  quasi-husbands  for  widows  at  the  public  cost, 
lest  they  should  be  a source  of  disturbance  to  the  general  peace”  (Ratzel,  ii. 
126).  Widows  are  repi,  prostitutes  among  some  Melanesians  (Codrington, 

P-  235)- 


CHAPTER  XIII 


Sickness — Death  by  poison — Infectious  diseases — Cruel  treatment  of  sick 
and  aged — Homicide— Retaliation  for  murder — Tribal  and  personal 
quarrels — Diseases — Remedies — Death — Mourning — Burial. 


Indians,  like  most  coloured  races,  are  abject  cowards  in 
pain  or  disease.  They  will  bear  torture  stoically  enough 
when  deliberately  inflicted,  but  should  they  suffer  from  any, 
to  them,  mysterious  reason,  in  their  ignorance  of  natural 
causes  they  at  once  ascribe  their  affliction  to  witchcraft. 
To  this  possibly  may  be  due  the  hapless  manner  in  which 
they  will  lay  them  down  to  die,  and  actually  succeed  in  doing 
so  by  auto-suggestion. 

To  the  Indian  in  common  with  other  peoples  of  the  lower 
cultures,  moreover,  there  is  no  such  thing  as  death  from 
natural  causes.  It  is  the  result  either  of  poison  administered 
in  secret  by  an  enemy,  or  magical  evil  wrought  by  him  or  at 
his  instigation,  and  the  crashing  of  the  thunder  is  the  magic 
noise  that  accompanies  the  fatal  result.  If  a possible  enemy 
is  known  or  suspected,  or  if,  after  divination,  the  medicine- 
man can  identify  the  culprit,  it  becomes  the  duty  of  the 
relatives  to  avenge  the  deceased,  who  has,  according  to  Indian 
logic,  been  murdered.1 

Without  doubt  a very  large  number  of  deaths  are  due  to 
poison.  Removal  by  poison  is  practised  to  a great  extent 
by  the  Karahone,  who  have,  as  has  been  said,  much  scien- 
tific knowledge  of  poisons  and  their  effects.  Further,  it  is 
the  custom  of  the  tribal  medicine-man  when  his  patients  are 
in  what  he  considers  to  be  a hopeless  condition,  to  administer 
a dose  of  poison  quietly  to  the  moribund  sufferers  after  he 


1 See,  for  similar  belief  among  the  Zaparo,  Simson,  p.  174. 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS  169 

has  declared  that  all  his  skill  is  in  vain,  and  announced 
that  recovery  is  impossible.  For  the  medicine-man  it  then 
becomes  more  important  to  secure  the  fulfilment  of  his 
verdict  than  to  risk  the  chance  of  recovery  falsifying  his 
prognostications.  The  probability  is  that  the  patient 
would  die,  if  for  no  other  reason  than  that  the  medicine-man 
foretold  his  death,  but  that  gentleman  will  take  no  risks.1 

There  are  other  and  more  recognised  cases  in  which  it 
is  the  medicine-man’s  province  to  administer  a fatal  draught. 
A mad  person,  for  example,  is  first  exorcised  by  the  medi- 
cine-man to  expel  his  madness.  If  this  fails  to  secure 
the  eviction  of  the  evil  spirits  that  cause  the  madness, 
the  man  is  put  to  death  to  ensure  the  destruction  of  the 
bad  influence  which,  since  it  passes  the  doctor’s  power 
to  remedy,  has  presumably  been  sent  by  some  hostile  col- 
league with  greater  magical  gifts.  Occasionally  also,  when 
any  serious  accident  has  befallen  an  Indian,  a medicine-man 
goes  through  the  ceremony  of  placing  him  in  a secluded 
part  of  the  bush,  and  administering  the  usual  narcotic. 
The  patient  is  then  left  for  the  night.  The  next  day  his 
relatives  return,  and  if  he  is  not  dead  he  recounts  to  them 
his  dreams,  and  from  these  they  deduct  who  is  the  enemy 
that  has  caused  his  sickness.  Reprisals  naturally  follow. 

Should  any  known  infectious  disease  break  out  in  a tribe, 
those  attacked  by  it  are  immediately  left,  even  by  their 
closest  relatives,  the  house  is  abandoned,  and  possibly  even 
burnt.  Such  derelict  houses  are  no  uncommon  sight  in  the 
forest,  grimly  desolate  mementos  of  possible  tragedies. 

Perhaps  the  cruel  treatment  of  the  sick  arises  from  the 
fact  that  all  disease  is  regarded  as  due  to  an  enemy  who 
essays  by  such  means  to  procure  the  destruction  of  the 
tribe.  Fear  is  undoubtedly  the  root-cause.  But  it  must 
also  be  remembered  that  where  life  is  not  easy  for  the  hale 
and  hearty,  for  the  helpless  it  is  impossible  except  in  so  far 
as  they  can  prey  upon  their  active  neighbours.  The  ques- 

1 For  example,  among  the  Bororo  when  the  medicine-man  has 
announced  that  the  patient  will  die  in  a given  time,  “ if  at  the  end  of  this 
time  he  still  lives,  the  executioner,  sent  of  course  by  the  priest,  will  suddenly 
appear  in  the  hut,  sit  astride  his  stomach,  and  strangle  him  to  death  ” 
(Cook,  p.  55). 


170 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


tion  of  self-preservation  comes  in  to  complicate  the  problem 
of  the  unfit.  At  every  point  it  is  clearly  to  be  seen  that  the 
survival  of  the  most  fit  is  the  very  real  and  the  very  stern 
rule  of  life  in  the  Amazonian  forests.  From  birth  to  death 
it  rules  the  Indians’  life  and  philosophy.  To  help  to  pre- 
serve the  unfit  would  often  be  to  prejudice  the  chances  of 
the  fit.1  There  are  no  arm-chair  sentimentalists  to  oppose 
this  very  practical  consideration.  The  Indian  judges  it  by 
his  standard  of  common  sense  : why  live  a life  that  has 
ceased  to  be  worth  living  when  there  is  no  bugbear  of  a hell 
to  make  one  cling  to  the  most  miserable  of  existences  rather 
than  risk  greater  misery  ? Moreover,  in  Indian  opinion, 
such  clinging  to  life  is  a very  arrant  selfishness. 

Certainly  cases  of  chronic  illness  meet  with  no  sympathy 
from  the  Indians.  A man  who  cannot  hunt  or  fight  is  re- 
garded as  useless,  he  is  merely  a burden  on  the  community. 
Should  he  show  no  signs  of  eventual  recovery,  his  friends 
unhesitatingly  leave  him  to  die,  or,  if  a medicine-man  has 
not  been  commissioned  to  put  him  out  of  the  way,  he  is 
driven  into  the  bush,  where  the  same  end  is  speedily 
attained.  This  is  done  not  only  to  the  invalids,  but  also 
to  the  aged  members  of  a tribe,  unless  they  possess  great 
wisdom  and  experience,  and  so  are  of  great  tribal  worth. 
Otherwise  they,  too,  have  ceased  to  be  units  of  any  practical 
value  in  tribal  life,  and  merely  hamper  the  more  active. 
Actual  parricide  there  is  none  ; old  people  are  not  killed,  but 
they  are  left  to  die.  There  is  no  sentimental  desire  for  their 
company,  no  affection  to  lighten  the  unhappiness  of  their 
lot.  If  they  are  unable  to  tend  themselves,  not  an  Indian 
will  go  out  of  his  way  to  render  any  help  or  service.  Cas- 
sava may  be  thrown  to  them  occasionally,  or  it  may  be 
forgotten,  and  without  doubt  in  times  of  scarcity  no  pro- 
vision whatever  is  made  for  the  feeble  and  the  failing 
who  can  make  none  for  themselves.  Slaves,  of  course, 
are  looked  upon  as  of  no  account,  and  if  sick  or  crippled 
they  are  abandoned  without  a thought.  If  a woman 
with  a young  child  should  die,  and  no  one  be  found  willing 
to  adopt  the  infant,  the  father  argues  that  it  must  die 
1 See  Joyce,  p.  249. 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS  171 

anyhow,  and  it  is  either  quietly  killed  and  buried  with  the 
dead  mother,  or  exposed  in  the  bush.1 

The  reason  that  underlies  such  neglect  of  the  sick  and 
infirm  has,  on  the  other  hand,  resulted  in  the  prevention  of 
intra-tribal  homicide.  If  the  survival  of  the  unfit  is  not  to 
be  desired,  the  existence  of  the  fit  is  to  be  encouraged  by 
all  possible  means.  On  the  whole,  although  sick  people  are 
neglected,  I do  not  think  that  they  are  often  destroyed. 
Frequently  a sick  Indian  has  appealed  to  me,  “ Oh  ! let  me 
die,”  but  none  has  ever  said,  “ Kill  me  1 ” Intra-tribal 
homicide  is  certainly  prohibited  by  custom,  otherwise  homi- 
cide is  only  limited  by  fear  of  reprisal,  a more  effective 
combination  than  any  police  force  or  criminal  code.  Even 
as  punishment  for  an  admitted  offence,  homicide  within 
the  tribe  is  not  tolerated,  for  if  a man  die  it  means  the 
loss  of  a warrior,  an  injury  to  tribal  strength,  a matter  not 
to  be  lightly  risked  where  the  battle  is  only  to  the  strong. 
There  is,  however,  one  exception  to  this,  and  that  is  in  the 
case  of  theft.  Living  as  these  peoples  do  an  absolutely 
public  life,  theft  becomes  of  necessity  a capital  crime.  The 
loser,  if  he  can  catch  the  thief,  will  kill  him  by  knocking  him 
down  by  a blow  on  the  legs  with  the  iron-wood  sword,  and 
then  hacking  off  his  head.  This  retribution  is  considered 
perfectly  justifiable  by  the  tribe,  and  is  indeed  sanctioned 
by  custom. 

After  a murder  has  been  committed  it  is  the  sacred  duty 
of  some  brother  or  near  relative  of  the  dead  to  kill  the 
murderer,  or,  if  not,  at  least  a relative  of  his,  in  accordance 
with  the  world-old  idea  of  an  eye  for  an  eye.  A man  who 
refused  to  revenge  a murdered  relative  would  be  taunted  by 
all  the  women,  and  this  would  soon  render  his  own  life  in 
the  tribe  an  intolerable  one.  But  I have  never  come  across 
the  custom  which  is  prevalent  in  Africa  among  some  primi- 
tive peoples,  that  is,  to  search  for  the  same  relative  to  the 
murdered  as  the  murdered  man  was  to  the  avenger  : for 
example,  “You  have  killed  my  nephew,  I will  kill  your 
nephew.” 

When  an  intentional  murder  has  been  committed  the 

1 See  supra,  p.  151. 


172 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


murderer  flies  to  the  bush,  where  he  is  promptly  followed, 
and  the  pursuit  is  not  foregone  until  the  criminal  is  secured 
or  the  pursuers  find  themselves  in  imminent  danger  from 
a hostile  tribe.  In  the  latter  case  the  blood-feud  remains 
open  for  an  early  settlement,  and  the  friends  of  the  murderer 
are  dealt  with  first. 

Homicide  is,  in  fact,  always  looked  upon  as  a wrong  done 
to  a man’s  tribe  or  family,  rather  than  to  the  individual 
himself.  In  the  case  of  accidental  homicide  it  may  still 
lead  to  a blood-feud.  The  deed  is  done,  that  is  sufficient  for 
these  simple-minded  folk.  It  may  possibly  be  put  down  to 
the  witchcraft  of  some  neighbouring  medicine -man  who 
has  bewitched  the  unintentional  slayer  with  hostile  motives  ; 
but  that  will  not  save  the  unfortunate  offender,  rather  is  it 
an  additional  argument  that  he  should  be  destroyed  lest 
worse  trouble  follow.  There  is  also  to  be  reckoned  with 
the  idea  that  the  dead  man’s  spirit  will  haunt  the  tribe, 
and  especially  his  nearest  relative,  until  his  blood  has  been 
avenged.1  Besides,  it  is  undoubtedly  difficult  to  draw  the 
line  between  accident  and  design,  and,  for  the  matter  of  that, 
the  meaning  of  the  word  “ accident  ” is  unknown  to  the 
Indian. 

The  chief  and  the  tribe  will  sometimes  take  up  the 
quarrel  as  their  own,  but,  on  the  other  hand,  a man  con- 
siders it  a disgraceful  thing  not  to  be  able  to  avenge  his 
own  wrongs,  and,  therefore,  never  applies  to  the  chief 
for  tribal  help.  This  is  true  of  all  small  communities,  an 
affront  of  any  one  of  the  community  being  a personal  attack 
upon  every  other  member,  but  it  is  not  necessary  that  it 
should  be  avenged  by  all,  unless  the  affronted  one  be  unable 
for  any  cause  to  complete  his  revenge  by  himself. 

No  tribal  notice  is  taken  of  a murder  committed  intra- 
family, such  as  the  murder  of  a son  or  a wife,  as  no 
revenge  is  necessary ; the  loss  only  affects  the  murderers, 
and  it  is  simply  arranged  by  the  family  itself.  The  loss  of 
one  member  does  not  suggest  itself  as  a reasonable  cause 


1 The  idea  of  blood  crying  for  vengeance  is  familiar  enough,  and  the 
most  universally-known  example  is  that  of  the  fratricide  Cain  informed 
that  his  brother’s  blood  cried  for  vengeance  from  the  ground  (Gen.  iv.  10). 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


173 


for  compelling  the  loss  of  another.  The  one  exception  to 
this  would  be  if  the  murdered  man  were  a noted  warrior 
whose  death  would  constitute  a serious  tribal  loss.  Action 
might  then  be  taken  by  the  whole  tribe  after  the  usual 
tobacco  palaver. 

So  much  for  death  by  violence  ; there  remains  something 
to  be  said  of  death  by  disease,  and  of  sickness  not  neces- 
sarily ending  in  death. 

All  travellers  and  writers  have  noticed  how  prone  the 
Indian  is  to  sun-sickness.  Living  as  he  does  in  the  perpetual 
gloom  of  his  tribal  house,  or  the  restricted  light  of  the  forest 
depths,  he  appears  to  be  exceptionally  susceptible  to  the 
effects  of  strong  sunshine.  His  sensitiveness  is  tried  further 
by  any  sort  of  change,  even  a transference  from  the  upper 
reaches  to  the  main  rivers  completely  upsets  him.  Indians 
appear  to  go  sick  especially  on  moving  only  a short  way 
from  their  own  locality.  They  are  also  bad  subjects 
for  malarial  fevers,  and  the  Issa  River  is  notoriously  un- 
healthy in  this  respect.  By  this  I mean  the  river  itself, 
and  in  its  immediate  vicinage.  Even  a few  hundred  yards 
away  from  its  banks  the  country  is  comparatively  healthy 
and  free  from  pestilent  fly-belts,  which,  it  will  be  remembered, 
are  at  their  worst  some  three  days  steam  up  that  river.1 
On  the  Brazilian  frontier  especially  the  pium  from  sunrise 
to  sunset  is  unbearable.  The  beginning  of  the  rains  in- 
variably brings  fever. 

On  the  other  hand,  chest  complaints  are  rare,  respiratory 
disease  is  unknown,  and  throat  diseases  uncommon,  though 
you  meet  victims  to  rheumatism  and  cramp.  There  is  no 
venereal  disease  among  these  tribes,  and  no  umbilical  hernia. 
Phimosis  is  common,  and  so  are  gastric  complaints.  Dis- 
eases of  the  eye  are  rare,  though  squinting  is  extremely 
prevalent. 

There  are  many  parasitic  diseases.  Ringworm  and 
intestinal  worm  are  very  general  troubles,  and  lice  in  the 
head  universal.  Jiggers  in  the  Indian  houses  are  a pest  to 
all,  and  one  of  the  daily  duties  of  the  Indian  wife  consists 
in  the  examination  of  her  man’s  feet  to  remove  any  thorns 
1 See  supra,  p.  31. 


174 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


or  jiggers  that  may  have  effected  a lodgment.  This  jigger 
is  similar  to  the  African  species  ; it  burrows  into  the  foot, 
and  lays  its  eggs  beneath  the  skin.  I have  had  as  many  as 
thirty-seven  picked  out  of  my  foot  at  one  time.  The  nuisance 
can  be  largely  diminished  if  the  traveller  take  the  precaution 
always  to  wear  boots  in  or  about  an  Indian  house,  for  jiggers 
are  not  found  in  the  bush  itself,  though  a somewhat  similar 
pest  abounds  on  the  leaves  and  grasses,1  and  causes  abomin- 
able irritation.  In  the  Rubber  Belt  the  usual  remedy  for 
this  is  a bath  of  white  rum. 

Near  the  Rubber  Belt  smallpox  has  found  its  devastating 
way  among  the  Indians.  I have  said  that  they  fear  any 
contagious  disease,  and  will  often  leave  a sick  person  to  die, 
so  it  may  well  be  understood  that  a case  of  smallpox  causes 
the  utmost  panic  and  consternation.2  Tribes  further  re- 
moved from  contact  with  “ civilisation  ” are  spared  this 
scourge,  but  I noticed  a form  of  measles  among  the  children. 
Yellow  fever  is  not  known  in  the  upper  reaches,  but  I can 
answer  for  it  that  beriberi  is,  as  I fell  a victim  to  it  myself. 
It  is  very  prevalent  in  all  this  country,  but  it  does  not  attack 
the  Indians.3 

The  Napo  Indians  suffer  from  skin  diseases  that  are  not 
known  to  the  tribes  in  the  Issa  and  Japura  valleys.  There 
is  a bluish  discoloration  and  white  blotch  that  is  said  to 
come  from  eating  tapir.4  Among  the  Karahone  one  meets 

1 " A microscopic  scarlet  Acarus  " (Orton,  p.  485). 

2 " To  an  Indian  smallpox  is  certain  death — the  most  dreaded  enemy, 
who  has  over  and  over  again  swept  off  entire  tribes,  and  the  name  or 
passing  suspicion  of  which  from  youth  up  has  always  been  trembled  at  and 
fled  from  as  from  death  itself  ” (Simson,  p.  142). 

2 There  are  many  varieties  of  this  complaint.  In  one  kind  the  patient 
wastes  away.  With  another  it  assumes  the  characteristics  of  elephantiasis, 
the  legs  swell,  the  flesh  becomes  soft  and  podgy,  the  skin  unhealthy  and 
white.  It  is  said  by  the  rubber-gatherers  that  a cure  can  only  be  effected 
when  the  patient  sees  the  sea,  in  other  words  through  complete  change 
of  air. 

4 Simson  speaks  of  a " skin-disease  common  amongst  all  Indians  of  the 
higher  Maranon,  called  ' carata.’  The  skin  is  ‘ scaly  and  blotched  all  over 
with  black  ’ ” (Simson,  p.  178).  This  seems  to  be  similar  to  the  " cutaneous 
disease  ” mentioned  by  Bates,  except  that  he  explicitly  mentions  " the 
black  spots  were  hard  and  rough  but  not  scaly”  (Bates,  ii.  382).  The 
Purupura  Indians  have  also  a skin  complaint  that  causes  them  to  be 
'*  spotted  and  blotched  with  white,  brown,  or  nearly  black  patches " 
(Wallace,  p.  357). 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


175 


with  cases  afflicted  in  the  same  manner  as  natives  on  the 
Apaporis.  They  are  spotted  with  a leprosy  which  is  said 
to  be  due  to  the  amount  of  fish  that  is  eaten  by  these  tribes. 
This  disease  is  otherwise  unknown. 

All  strangers  suffer  from  ulcers  on  the  legs.1  Among  the 
Indians  themselves  sores  are  common,2  but  I think  are  due 
entirely  to  neglected  wounds  caused  by  palm-spines  and  so 
forth,  not  to  climate  and  feeding  as  would  be  the  case  with 
ourselves.  Stings  also  have  to  be  reckoned  with. 

Indian  remedies  are  rather  symptomatic  than  specific  ; 3 
the  methods  of  cure  will  be  more  fully  dealt  with  in  connec- 
tion with  the  medicine-men.  The  remedies  are  rather  of 
the  order  of  kill  than  cure.  For  instance,  fever  is  treated 
by  the  drastic  method  of  bathing  in  the  cold  water  of  the 
river  to  lower  the  temperature.4  On  the  Napo  the  natives 
take  a concoction  of  tobacco  - water  and  quinine.  They 
make  a remedy  for  wounds  from  the  bark  of  a tree,  which 
they  boil,  and  use  the  liquid  to  wash  the  wound.  A root 
found  in  the  forest  yields  a narcotic  much  employed  by  the 
medicine-man  when  it  is  scraped,  crushed,  and  boiled  in 
water.  Another  remedy,  acting  as  a counter-irritant,  is  a 
sage-green  feathery  moss,  some  species  of  lichen,  very  dry, 
that  grows  round  the  roots  of  trees. 

During  my  stay  with  the  tribes  I never  met  with  any  such 
frantic  sorrow  at  a death  as  is  described  by  Koch-Grunberg,5 
though  a mother  will  cry  over  the  body  of  a dead  child,6  and 
sobbing,  wailing,  and  a certain  amount  of  excited  grief  is 
shown  at  a funeral,  especially  if  it  be  that  of  an  important 
person. 

Burial  takes  place  without  delay  on  the  day  of  death. 
The  dead  man,  unwashed,  is  wrapped  in  his  hammock  in  a 
sitting  position,  and  a grave  is  dug  immediately  below  the 
place  where  the  hammock  was  slung  in  his  lifetime.  Though 

1 I did  myself,  and  so  did  my  boy  Brown  and  others  of  the  party. 

2 Andre,  pp.  16-110. 

8 Spix  and  Martius,  p.  31. 

4 Simson,  pp.  148,  194.  A very  common  practice  among  Indians. 

6 Koch-Griinberg,  pp.  134,  165. 

6 I do  not  mean  the  body  of  an  infant  killed  at  birth,  which,  as  I have 
said,  is  done  as  quietly  and  secretly  as  possible. 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


176 

they  only  dig  deep  enough  to  hide  the  body,  this  custom  of 
intramural  interment  does  not  appear  to  have  unhealthy 
effects  upon  the  other  inhabitants  of  the  house,  and  no 
epidemic  ever  seems  to  arise  in  consequence.  The  dead  man’s 
ornaments,  his  arms,  and  other  personal  possessions,  such  as 
his  tobacco-bag,  his  coca-pot,  are  placed  in  the  leaf-lined 
grave  beside  him.  The  whole  interment  is  carried  out  with 
all  speed,  to  get  the  body  out  of  the  way  as  quickly  as  they 
possibly  can.  South  of  the  Issa  a canoe  or  earthen  jar  takes 
the  place  of  the  hammock  for  shroud,  but  I never  met  with 
any  urn  burial,  primary  or  secondary,  among  the  tribes  of 
the  north.1 

When  the  deceased  is  a woman  the  same  procedure  is 
followed,  only  pots  are  buried  with  her  in  place  of  weapons. 
Among  the  Kuretu-language  group,  when  a woman  dies,  her 
pots  are  broken  before  they  are  placed  in  the  grave,2  and  her 
baskets  are  also  buried  with  her  in  addition  to  her  ornaments. 
This  is  done  to  prevent  the  return  of  the  soul  to  ask  for  its 
properties  should  they  be  needed  in  the  spirit  world. 

When  a chief  has  died  the  ceremonies  are  more  elaborate. 
His  body,  like  any  other  man’s,  is  wrapped  in  his  palm-fibre 
hammock,  and  he  is  buried  with  his  weapons,  ornaments, 
and  private  treasures.  But  after  the  grave  is  filled  in,  the 
assembled  tribe  partake  of  a funeral  feast.  In  the  intervals 
of  drinking  and  dancing  the  mourners  sing  of  the  great 
achievements,  the  worthiness  and  virtues  of  the  dead  man. 
The  new  chief  comes  forward,  attired  in  the  prescribed 
fashion,  wearing  a weird  and  wonderful  head-dress  to  attract 
attention.  He  does  not  face  the  assembled  people,  but  turns 
to  the  wall  of  the  house,  and  speaks  with  his  back  to  the 
tribe. 

After  a burial  a fire  is  made  over  the  new  grave  by  the 
relatives,  and  is  always  kept  burning  for  some  days,  except 

1 “ Primary  urn-burial  is  characteristic  in  the  main  of  the  Tupi-Guarani 
family  ” (Joyce,  p.  270). 

2 For  the  same  reason  that  prompted  similar  proceeding  among  the 
Norsemen,  an  influence  still  alive  in  many  parts  of  our  own  country. 
Cf.  Mitchell,  Past  in  the  Present.  An  instance  is  reported  from  Hamp- 
shire within  the  last  few  years  of  a child’s  toys  being  broken  on  its  grave. 
(Read,  Folklore  Journal,  vol.  xxii.  p.  322.) 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


177 


in  the  case  of  a chief,  when  the  whole  house  is  burnt.  This 
may  possibly  counteract  the  obvious  dangers  of  these  intra- 
mural burials,  and  account  for  the  absence  of  evil  results. 

Whatever  mourning  may  be  indulged  in  before  the  body 
is  buried,  no  grief  is  ever  shown  after  the  interment,  for  the 
spirit  has  then  departed.  This  belief  explains  why  a man’s 
grave  is  not  marked  in  any  way  by  these  tribes,  and  has,  as 
a matter  of  course,  no  claim  to  respect  from  his  survivors. 

It  is  possible  that  the  question  of  cannibal  customs  as 
insults  to  the  dead  also  influence  the  Indians  in  the  matter 
of  burial,  and  the  absence  of  sign  upon  a grave.  It  would 
in  some  measure  account  for  the  burial  in  the  house — as  a 
protective  measure — in  spite  of  the  fact  that  they  recognise 
the  danger  of  the  spirit’s  return,  a belief  which  would  more 
naturally  incline  them  to  extramural  burials. 

Ceremonial  bathing  always  takes  place  after  a funeral, 
in  which  every  one  takes  part  for  the  purpose  of  purification. 


N 


CHAPTER  XIV 


The  medicine-man,  a shaman — Remedies  and  cures — -Powers  and  duties 
of  the  medicine-man — Virtue  of  breath — Ceremonial  healing  — 
Hereditary  office — Training — Medicine-man  and  tigers — Magic  work- 
ing— Properties— Evil  always  due  to  bad  magic — Influence  of  medicine- 
man— Method  of  magic-working — Magical  cures. 


The  medicine-man  of  the  South  American  Indian  tribes  has 
been  described  as  “ the  counterpart  of  the  shaman  type.”  1 
There  would  seem  to  be  hardly  need  for  any  qualification — 
he  is  a shaman.  The  word  has  attained  a certain  vogue, 
with  too  frequent  lax  usage,  so  that  merely  finding  the 
name  “ shimano  ” in  connection  with  any  of  these  Indians — 
especially  when  it  is  found  in  the  pages  of  an  American 
writer  — does  not  warrant  this  assertion.2  But  a short 
study  of  the  exhaustive  paper  on  Shamanism  and  the 
Shaman  in  the  Royal  Anthropological  Institute  Journal  3 will 
show  that  point  for  point  the  methods  and  procedure  of  the 
Witoto,  the  Boro,  and  kindred  tribes  tally  with  that  of  the 
shamans  of  Siberian  peoples.  That  is  to  say  he  is  a doctor 
and  a wizard,  not  a priest.  He  claims  to  deal  with  spirits 
by  magical  processes,  to  exorcise,  outwit,  and  circumvent, 
not  to  officiate  in  any  sacred  office  as  the  minister,  the  vicar, 
of  a deity.  He  is  a hypnotist  and  a conjuror.  But  he  is 
more  than  a mere  charlatan.  He  is  the  poison-maker  for 
the  tribe,  and  possesses,  as  a rule,  especially  among  the 
Andoke  and  Karahone,  a considerable  knowledge  of  drugs, 

1 Ratzel,  ii.  155. 

2 Shaman  is  in  more  general  use  among  Americans.  It  should  be 
remembered  that  the  Zaparo,  with  whom  Simson  mentions  the  shimano 
(Simson,  pp.  174-5,  177),  have  had  considerably  more  intercourse  with 
western  civilisation  than  the  tribes  away  from  the  Napo  line  of  com- 
munication. 

3 Vol.  xxiv. 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


179 


both  curative  and  lethal.  The  curare  poison  is  a treasured 
secret  of  the  medicine-men.  Its  recipe  is  religiously  guarded 
by  them,  and  the  deadly  preparation  is  made  with  both 
ceremony  and  privacy.  The  Andoke  medicine-men  have 
an  ointment  concocted  from  a plant — the  identity  of  which 
they  would  not  divulge — that  is  used  for  massaging  purposes. 
They  all  use  tobacco  juice,  coca,  and  a white  snuff  that  I 
thought  must  be  the  famous  niopo,  but  could  not  find  out 
anything  about  it.1  One  cure  for  a headache  is  worked  with 
a special  kind  of  dried  bark.  The  medicine-man  carries  a 
piece  of  this  in  his  magic-bag,  and  with  it  he  rubs  over  the 
head  of  the  sufferer  ; or,  if  he  is  dealing  with  a wound,  he 
will  pass  the  bark  over  the  skin  to  make  it  heal.  There  is 
also  a species  of  lichen  or  moss  used  by  them  to  rub  lightly 
over  the  affected  part,  which  acts  as  a very  mild  blistering 
agent.  It  stings  and,  acting  as  a counter  irritant,  draws  the 
inflammation  away  from  the  seat  of  the  injury  to  the  surface, 
and  thus  to  some  extent  neutralises  the  pain.  It  is  a sage 
green  in  colour,  dry  and  feathery  in  appearance,  and  is 
found  growing  round  the  roots  of  trees. 

Pain,  sickness,  death,  each  and  all  are  caused  in  Indian 
opinion  by  some  evil  spirit,  sent  of  course  by  an  enemy. 
It  is  to  combat  this  magic-worked  mischief  that  the  medicine- 
man’s services  are  required  in  the  first  place.  Magic  must 
be  countered  by  magic.2  Incidentally  the  medicine-man 
relies  also  to  some  extent  on  his  own  medicine,  his  purges, 
and  narcotics.  However  potent  these  may,  or  may  not  be, 
the  fact  that  the  patient  has  implicit  faith  in  their  efficacy 
goes  far  to  assist  their  intrinsic  merits  and  further  the  cure, 
the  expulsion  of  the  evil  spirit  that  has  wrought  the  trouble. 
A medicine -man  probably  has  a number  of  these  more 
or  less  genuine  remedies,  infusions  of  herbs  that  possess 
curative  properties,  such  as  those  already  dealt  with  in  the 
previous  chapter. 

But  drugs  and  ointments  alone  do  not,  to  the  Indian 
mind,  go  far  to  bring  about  recovery.  Much  more  effective, 

1 " The  chief  ‘ medicine  ' of  the  Payes  on  the  affluents  of  the  Amazon, 
both  northern  and  southern,  and  on  the  Orinoco  ” (Spruce,  ii.  436). 

2 Crevaux,  p.  300. 


i8o 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


as  a spirit-evicting  agent,  is  the  medicine-man’s  virtue, 
represented  by  his  breath.  It  is  sufficient  for  him  to  breathe 
over  food  or  drink  to  render  it  healthy,  to  breathe  on  a sore 
place  to  secure  removal  of  pain,  to  breathe  on  the  sick  to 
promote  recovery.1  Nor  is  this  power  vested  only  in  the 
medicine-man.  Other  people’s  breath  may  have  similar 
value,  if  of  less  degree.2  Should  an  Indian  wish  to  eat  of 
forbidden  food,  he  may  get  an  old  woman  to  breathe  over 
it.  Is  a child  sickly,  a like  procedure  may  restore  it  to 
health.  In  all  the  medicine-man’s  performances  breathing 
and  blowing  over  the  patient  is  a prominent  part  of  the 
processes.  The  medicine-man  will  breathe  on  his  own  hand 
and  then  massage  the  part  of  the  patient  that  is  affected  ; 
and  if  stronger  measures  are  required  he  will  suck  the  place, 
or  as  near  the  place  as  his  mouth  can  be  put,  suck  vigorously 
and  possibly  spit  out  a black  liquid — the  tobacco  juice 
freely  taken  by  him  during  the  performance  explains  the 
colour.  The  avowed  object  of  the  suction  is  that  it  draws 
out  the  poison — the  evil  spirit.3  It  is  here  that  some  degree 
of  charlatanism  comes  into  play,  for  the  operating  medicine- 
man will  presently  produce  a tangible  object  from  his  mouth, 
a bit  of  stick,  a thorn,  a fishbone,  or  anything  of  a similar 
description,  and  inform  the  patient  and  his  friends  that  this 
is  the  material  form  which  had  been  assumed  by  the  evil 
spirit  which  he  has  drawn  bodily  from  the  flesh  of  the  sick 
person.4  This  is  the  usual  accompaniment  of  the  shaman’s 
rites,  and  too  universally  indulged  in  by  the  wizard  fraternity 
to  need  any  particular  comment. 

The  Indian  medicine-man  receives  presents  for  the  cures 
he  effects.  Should  he  fail  he  must  make  the  best  case  he  can 

1 im  Thurn,  p.  312  ; Wallace,  p.  347  ; Crevaux,  p.  299. 

2 im  Thurn,  p.  368. 

3 Spruce  mentions  Barr6  Indians  “ sucking  out  the  rheumatism  ” from 
each  other’s  shoulders  (Spruce,  ii.  435). 

* I am  unable  to  say  whether  the  medicine-man  believes  that  an  actual 
stick  has  been  literally  in  the  patient’s  flesh,  or  whether  he  believes  that  the 
stick  concealed  in  his  mouth  becomes  a habitation  for  the  supernatural 
power  causing  the  sickness,  or  if  he  merely  does  the  whole  thing  to  impress 
his  audience,  and  confirm  their  belief  in  his  magical  powers.  Quite  possibly 
all  these  reasons  combined  in  varying  degrees  are  present  in  any  case. 
See  Marett,  Anthropology,  p.  247. 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


181 


for  himself,  and  depart  to  the  bush  to  work  magic  against 
the  rival  who  has  successfully — according  to  his  account — 
outmanoeuvred  him.  The  blame  for  failure  is  not  to  be  his 
but  another’s.  This,  it  is  hardly  necessary  to  note,  is  an 
alluring  chance  for  the  repayment  of  any  personal  injury  or 
slight,  not  often  missed  by  so  entirely  human  a person  as  the 
Indian  medicine-man. 

To  a certain  extent  the  office  of  tribal  medicine-man 
is  hereditary,  that  is  to  say  the  eldest  son,  if  efficient, 
succeeds  the  father.  It  would  be  more  correct  to  say  the 
most  hairy  of  his  sons,  as  hirsute  qualifications  are  far  more 
weighty  and  essential  determinatives  than  questions  of  primo- 
geniture. The  hairier  the  wiser  it  would  seem.  But  of  this 
anon.  Often  the  medicine-man  will  have  a small  boy  with 
him,  who  may  be  his  son,  actual  or  adopted,  and  who  is 
also  credited  with  magic  gifts.1  Thus  the  secrets  of  the 
profession  are  preserved  from  generation  to  generation,  the 
chosen  youths  being  the  recipients  of  the  secrets  and  trained 
to  develop  and  carry  on  the  magic  of  their  predecessors. 
Part  of  the  ritual  of  initiation,  as  of  the  ceremonial  healing, 
consists  of  what  to  the  unbelieving  white  man  is  not  too  well 
done  conjuring.  The  medicine-man  is  a clumsy  conjuror, 
and  only  the  implicit  trust  of  his  patients  and  audience  saves 
him  from  frequent  detection.  But  the  belief  that  they  must 
see  what  he  declares  they  see  goes  far  to  make  them  in  very 
truth  behold  it.  The  “ conjuring  ” in  the  initiation  of  a 
novice  consists  of  simple  “ passes  ” of  sticks  up  through  the 
nostril  and  out  of  the  back  of  the  head.  According  to 
Waterton  the  probationers  have  to  endure  exhausting 
ordeals  and  torture.2  This  is  very  probable,  but  on  this 
point  I received  no  information. 

So  far  as  I am  aware  not  one  of  these  tribes  attaches  any 
importance  to  the  hair  that  is  clipped  or  depilated,  nor  to 
nail  parings  ; if  they  do  the  point  escaped  me.  But  though 
they  depilate  because  they  dislike  resembling  monkeys  with  a 
hairy  pelt,  at  the  same  time  it  is  noticeable  that  not  only 

1 A boy  “ with  epileptic  tendency  being  preferred,”  as  im  Thurn  noted 
was  the  case  in  British  Guiana  (im  Thurn,  p.  334). 

u Waterton,  p.  449. 


182 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


does  the  medicine-man  ignore  this  general  custom,  especially 
among  the  Andoke  where  it  is  strictly  tabu  to  him — yet 
hairiness  is,  as  I have  stated  above,  a necessary  qualification 
for  any  man  or  youth  who  is  desirous  of  attaining  the  posi- 
tion of  medicine-man.  He  is  certainly  the  only  man  in  the 
tribe  with  any  face  hair.  When  the  medicine-man  has  a 
hairy  son  the  boy  is  trained  to  inherit  the  “ practice," 
but  should  he  have  no  offspring  with  this  distinctive  require- 
ment, a hairy  child  will  be  chosen  and  educated  for  the  post. 

There  may  possibly  be  some  connection  between  this  tabu 
and  the  belief  that  when  a medicine-man  dies  he  returns  as 
a tiger,  and  even  during  his  lifetime  he  can  make  excursions 
in  tiger-form,  and  be  so  absolutely  tiger  that  he  can  slay 
and  eat  the  beasts  of  the  wild.  Every  medicine-man 
possesses  a jaguar  skin  that  he  is  said  to  use  when  he  turns 
tiger.  By  possession  of  a skin  he  has  the  power  of  resusci- 
tating the  tiger,  he  himself  being  the  spirit  of  the  tiger. 
He  can  thus  work  his  will,  afterwards  returning  to  human 
form.  An  ordinary  tiger  might  be  killed,  but  a medicine- 
man in  tiger  form  could  not  be.1  On  one  occasion  a medicine- 
man I met  had  a bag  made  of  tiger-skin  hung  round  his  neck, 
in  which  he  carried  all  his  paraphernalia.  But  the  medicine- 
men never  wear  these  skins  as  wraps  or  coverings.  Each 
hides  his  tiger  skin  away,  when  not  in  actual  use  for  magic 
purposes. 

The  power  to  return  after  death  in  the  shape  of  the 
dreaded  jaguar  is  a further  defensive  measure,  a precaution 
against  hostile  peoples,  as  in  this  shape  both  before  and  after 
death  the  medicine-man  can  attack  the  tribal  enemies,  and 
carry  obnoxious  individuals  away  into  the  bush  whenever 
opportunity  offers. 

The  medicine-man  lives  with,  and  yet  aloof  from  his 
fellow-tribesmen.  He  has  to  observe  many  tabu,  certain 
kinds  of  food  are  prohibited,  and  he  must  have  no  connec- 
tion with  women  when  making  his  medicines,2  for  should 
the  woman  bear  a child  it  will  be  a tiger  cub.  To  make 
his  drugs  and  unguents  a medicine-man  goes  alone  into  the 
forest,  and  this  in  itself  marks  him  as  different  from  other 

1 Cf.  im  Thurn,  p.  349.  2 Cf.  Westermarck,  p.  152. 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS  183 

men,  who  will  never  of  their  own  free  will  go  far  without  a 
companion.  Spruce  mentions  an  armed  guard  attendant  on 
medicine-men,  “ their  lives  being  in  continual  jeopardy,” 
but  no  such  thing  is  known  south  of  the  Japura.1  The 
medicine-men  certainly  wander  in  the  bush  alone,  for  they 
will  disappear  at  times,  and  on  their  return  inform  the 
tribesfolk  that  they  have  been  about  some  magical  journey- 
ings  ; they  may  have  worked  in  the  guise  of  tigers  against 
tribal  enemies  ; or  paid  visits  in  the  spirit  to  other  lands. 
No  armed  escort  could  protect  a medicine-man  better  than 
his  own  reputation  suffices  to  do,  for  all  medicine-men  are 
feared — certes  one  that  was  not  feared  would  not  be  worth 
the  killing — and  no  Indian  would  be  likely  to  risk  the  danger 
resultant  on  doing  one  an  injury.  I doubt  if  even  a hostile 
tribe  would  wittingly  put  a medicine-man  to  death,  for 
they  fear  retaliation  on  the  part  of  the  spirit,  which  would 
certainly  haunt  them,  even  if  it  worked  no  graver  ill. 

The  medicine  - man’s  dress,  as  already  mentioned,  is 
largely  a matter  of  personal  taste  ; something  original  and 
striking  is  usually  attempted.  The  Orahone  medicine-man 
clothes  himself  in  tapir-skin,  and  the  Andoke  medicine- 
man in  the  illustration  opposite  p.  73  was  wearing  a dyed 
turban  when  I took  his  portrait.  Any  fancy  article  that 
comes  to  hand  is  utilised  to  make  him  different  from 
his  fellows.  His  " properties,”  which  are  carried  in  an 
ornamented  bag  of  tiger  skin,  or  of  beaten  bark  sewn  with 
fibre  string,  consist  of  a rattle — of  rather  more  elaborate 
design  than  the  ordinary  dance  rattle — some  small  magic 
stones,  and  a cup  made  from  the  shell  of  a river  fish.2  The 
latter  resembles  a large  oyster,  and  the  mother-of-pearl 
inner  coating  is  much  used  for  earrings  and  ornaments. 
The  medicine-man  takes  this  cup,  speaks  into  it,  and  rubs 
the  sick  person  all  over  with  it.  Then,  if  this  does  not  bring 
about  a cure,  the  patient  must  suck  it  till  he  vomits,  and 
continue  to  vomit  till  the  evil  spirit  be  expelled. 

Condor  claws  play  a great  part  in  magic- working  among 

1 Spruce,  ii.  430-31. 

2 I have  never  seen  the  medicine-man’s  palm-leaf  boxes  mentioned  by 
Spruce,  ii.  431. 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


184 

the  northern  tribes.  These  gigantic  birds  are  rare  in  the 
bush,  and  I never  saw  one,  though  I heard  of  them  from 
all  the  medicine-men,  and  obtained  some  specimens  of  the 
dried  feet  from  them.  These  are  ugly  objects,  the  leg 
stump  stopped  with  pitch  and  bound  roughly  round  with 
bands  of  beaten  bark,  about  half  or  a quarter  of  an  inch 
wide,  and  not  twisted.  But  though  I got  the  claws  I could 
not  get  any  details  as  to  what  they  were  supposed  to  do.1 

I once  saw  a medicine-man  with  the  skin  of  an  anaconda, 
and  was  told  that  by  using  the  skin  he  could  control  the 
spirit  of  the  anaconda.2  For  this  purpose  the  medicine- 
men are  habitually  provided  with  the  dried  skins  of  lizards 
and  snakes.3 

The  Andoke  place  great  faith  in  strings  of  magical  stones, 
five  or  seven  in  number.  These  are  taken  off  the  string 
and  laid  by  the  medicine-man  in  certain  patterns  on  the 
sufferer.  The  medicine-man  gazes  at  them  abstractedly 
till  a degree  of  self-induced  trance  is  established.  He  will 
then  break  out  into  a frenzy,  stamp,  shout,  and  brandish 
his  rattle.  The  stones  are  also  used  for  magical  rubbing, 
and  are  most  assiduously  guarded  by  their  possessors,  who 
will  not  part  with  them  for  any  consideration.  The  only 
string  of  such  stones  I managed  even  to  see  are  shown  in 
the  illustration.  They  are  of  quartz,  somewhat  roughly 
made  flat  discs,  worn  smooth  by  continual  use,  about  three- 
quarters  of  an  inch  in  diameter  and  a quarter  of  an  inch 
thick,  bored  in  the  centre,  the  hole  being  half  the  size  in  the 
middle  to  what  it  is  at  its  external  radius.  These  stones 
are  always  carried  on  a string. 

Whatever  goes  wrong  in  tribal  life,  from  a pain  in  the 

1 Among  the  Mungaberra  the  medicine-men  “ can  and  often  do  assume 
the  form  of  eagle-hawks,”  and  thus  attack  other  tribes  (Spencer  and 
Gillen,  p.  533).  It  may  be  that  the  medicine-men  of  Indian  tribes  nearer  the 
mountains,  where  these  birds  have  their  habitat,  assume  the  form  of  a 
condor,  as  the  medicine-man  of  the  forest  districts  does  that  of  the  jaguar, 
for  the  condor  is  " sacred  throughout  practically  the  whole  of  the  Andean 
region.”  See  Joyce,  p.  175. 

2 The  jaguar  and  the  anaconda  are  both  magical  beasts.  See 
Chap.  XIX. 

3 Note  : Among  the  Arunta  the  medicine-man  has  ” a particular  kind 
of  lizard  distributed  through  his  body,  which  endows  him  with  great 
sectional  powers  ” (Spencer  and  Gillen,  p.  531). 


PLATE  XLI. 


STONE  AXE  HEAD  (BORO) 

STRING  OF  MAGIC  STONES  (ANDOKE) 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


185 


finger  to  a hurricane,  the  malice  of  an  enemy  working 
through  the  evil  spirits  is  held  to  be  responsible,  as  will 
be  shown  more  fully  hereafter.  It  is  the  medicine-man’s 
business  not  only  to  frustrate  their  malicious  purposes,  but 
also  to  discover  who  is  the  foe  inciting  their  wickedness  by 
magical  influences.  Mischief  can  be  wrought  without  any 
bodily  presence.1  Revenge  is  also  possible  by  the  exercise 
of  similar  extra-natural  powers.  For  instance,  if  a child 
is  lost,  or  killed  by  a tiger,  the  bereaved  parents  call 
the  tribal  medicine-man  to  their  assistance.  If  the  hunters 
sent  out  to  retaliate  upon  the  tiger-foe  fail  to  capture  or 
overcome  it,  the  medicine-man  proceeds  to  work  magic. 
This  may  be  quite  simple,  for  it  is  possible  that  in  his  solitary 
wanderings  in  the  bush  he  may  have  the  luck  to  come  across 
the  lost  youngster.  In  this  case  he  “ re-creates  ” the 
child  by  the  potency  of  his  magic-working,  and  secures  an 
unshakable  reputation  by  producing  it  alive  in  due  course. 
Should  such  luck  not  befall  him  he  can  but  return  with  a 
tale  of  vengeance  wreaked  on  the  tiger,  and  a tiger-tooth — 
not  necessarily  of  fresh  extraction — in  proof  of  that  same. 
Then  it  is  his  duty  to  discover  which  might  be  the  wicked 
tribe  that  sent  the  tiger,  or  had  it  sent  at  their  instigation, 
as  he  would  have  to  ascertain  who  had  sent  sickness  were 
it  the  death  of  an  adult  that  was  under  investigation. 
The  procedure  is  the  same  whether  the  trouble  be  a 
house  blown  down  by  the  wind  or  any  other  catastrophe. 
The  tribe  assembles  for  a solemn  palaver,  and  the  medicine- 
man, frenzied  with  drugs,  eventually  “ divines  ” who  is  the 
enemy.  The  final  decision  usually  is  that  the  tribe  had 
better  go  to  war  at  once  lest  worse  befall  them. 

The  medicine-man  invariably  has  a considerable  say 
in  intertribal  policy.  War  is  never  made  without  his 
advice,  and  in  addition  to  his  duties  as  tribal  avenger  and 
healer,  he  must  warn  the  tribe  of  impending  hostilities.2 
Should  hostilities  break  out,  or  a death  occur,  during  a 
white  man’s  visit  to  a tribe,  he  would  possibly  find  himself 

1 See  im  Thurn,  pp.  329-31. 

2 Spruce,  ii.  432.  Cf.  Rochfort,  Histoire  naturelle  et  morale  des  Isles 
Antilles,  p.  472. 


i86 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


in  considerable  personal  danger.  Success  to  the  tribe  might 
in  part  be  attributed  to  his  virtue,  but  disaster  would 
certainly  be  considered  due  to  his  malign  presence,  a point 
the  medicine  - man  would  not  be  slow  in  urging  against 
the  visitor. 

The  white  stranger,  with  his  foreign  magic — for  magic 
every  other  thing  he  possesses  must  seem  to  the  un- 
sophisticated child  of  the  bush — in  any  circumstances  is 
regarded  with  some  jealousy  by  the  professional  magic- 
workers  of  the  tribes.  Naturally,  therefore,  it  is  with 
extreme  difficulty  that  any.  details  of  their  methods  and 
doings  can  be  learnt.  It  goes  without  saying  that  the 
medicine  - man  regards  any  inquisitive  stranger  as  a 
potential  rival,  is  on  his  guard  against  bluff  or  bribery, 
and  never  willingly  gives  so  much  as  an  opening  for 
exchange  of  professional  confidences.  It  is  the  hardest 
thing  in  the  world  to  obtain  information  from  the  Indian, 
for  every  Indian  will  say  “ I don’t  know,”  or  “ Pia  ” — 
because  it  is  so — in  order  to  avoid  having  to  explain  his 
beliefs  to  the  white  man.  I tried  to  bluff,  and  by  feigning  to 
possess  magical  gifts  hoped  to  draw  the  local  exponent  into 
a rival  display,  but  with  no  encouraging  results.  What  I 
could  gather  had  to  be  done  with  circumspection,  a bit 
here,  a trifle  there,  a note  from  a chance  remark,  a comment 
from  another. 

The  expulsion  of  the  evil  spirit  causing  sickness  is  a 
matter  requiring  invariably  much  noise  and  fury.  The 
maloka  is  always  dark,  be  it  day  or  night,  and  the  gloom 
is  not  broken  by  torches  for  the  medicine  - man’s  visit, 
nor  are  the  smouldering  fires  kicked  into  a blaze.  The 
doctor,  well  under  the  influence  of  drugs,  works  himself 
to  a state  of  wild  exaltation.  He  beats  the  floor  with  a 
palm  branch,  shakes  his  rattle  vigorously,  and  makes  the 
most  appalling  noises.  He  will  imitate  the  beasts  and  birds 
of  the  forest,  and — as  he  must  be  a skilled  ventriloquist  if 
he  has  any  claims  whatsoever  to  magic  gifts — the  sounds 
apparently  come  from  every  side.  This  is  to  demonstrate 
the  embodying  of  the  spirits  of  the  nether  world,  the  active 
causation  of  all  ill.  Also  it  is  to  summon  to  his  assistance 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS  187 

all  friendly  spirits,  or  all  over  whom  he  has  attained  magical 
influence.  He  carries  on  conversations  with  the  assumed 
speakers,  and  intermittently  howls,  and  shrieks,  and  beats 
the  air  with  his  palm  branches.  The  greater  the  noise,  the 
wilder  the  excitement,  the  more  potent  is  the  magic  of  the 
medicine-man.  South  of  the  Japura  he  does  not  blow 
smoke  over  the  patient,  but  he  makes  use  of  both  tobacco 
juice  and  coca.  He  further  drugs  himself  most  probably 
with  some  such  powerful  agent  as  aya-huasca,  though  that 
is  not  supposed  to  be  known  to  these  tribes.  The  medicine- 
man also  doses  himself  with  a drink  made  from  a certain 
liana.  When  thoroughly  intoxicated  with  it  he  will  run 
away,  and  shortly  go  into  profound  slumber.  In  this 
comatose  state  he  is  supposed  to  hold  intercourse  with  the 
unseen  world,  to  wander  in  spirit  to  other  places,  and,  as  a 
result  of  what  he  has  hereby  learnt,  to  be  able  to  foretell 
the  future  when  he  awakes. 

Magic-making  in  cases  of  sickness  includes  the  blowing, 
sucking,  and  so  forth,  already  described.  The  relatives  of 
the  patient  will  discourse  at  length  on  the  story  of  the 
sickness,  and  the  medicine-man  will  either  announce  who 
sent  it  himself  or  expound  the  sick  person’s  dreams  and 
therefrom  deduct  the  source  of  evil.  The  official  explana- 
tion and  verdict  is  always  given  in  the  most  ambiguous 
phraseology,  so  that  whatever  happens  the  medicine-man 
may  be  able  to  twist  his  dictum  to  the  desired  equivalent 
of  “ I told  you  so.” 

As  already  described  the  invalid  may  be  given  a strong 
narcotic  drink,  the  decoction  of  a root,  and  carried  out 
to  a small  clearing  made  in  the  bush.  There  he  is  left 
under  a rough  shelter.  No  one  may  speak  to  him,  or  pass 
him  while  he  lies  there,  otherwise  he  will  die.  The  relations 
go  out  of  sight,  and  guard  the  bush  tracks,  to  prevent 
any  such  passage.  If  the  patient  die  the  medicine-man 
asserts  very  positively  that  some  one  has  transgressed, 
knowingly  or  unknowingly,  and  so  caused  the  fatal  ending. 
I saw  such  a case  on  one  occasion  and  was  prayed  by  the 
Indians  not  to  go  anywhere  in  the  direction  of  the  sick  man. 

Should  a man’s  wife  fall  ill  her  relatives  may,  if  they 


i88 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


are  within  reasonable  distance,  come  and  take  her  away. 
Koch-Griinberg  mentions  a case  among  the  Bara  Indians 
where  two  men  came  from  another  tribe  and  removed  their 
sick  sister.  They  were  treated  with  a show  of  hostility  and 
followed — as  the  ailing  woman  took  her  healthy  children 
away — for  some  distance  into  the  bush.  But  no  tribal 
quarrel  ensued,  the  hostility  appears  to  have  been  merely 
ceremonial.  This  is  typical  of  what  might  occur  among 
any  friendly  tribes. 

Spruce,  after  seven  months  among  the  Uaupes  Indians, 
“ failed  to  catch  a paye  ” 1 or  see  one  at  work.  I attempted 
to  get  on  terms  with  sundry  of  these  gentlemen  by  an 
exhibition  of  my  own  “ magic  ” powers,  in  the  hope  that  1 
might  elicit  some  comments,  or  hints  of  their  own  secrets. 
I made  play  with  my  eyeglass,  and  informed  them  that  it 
was  great  medicine,  and  enabled  me  to  see  through  a man. 
But  though  the  tribesmen  had  on  their  own  account 
attributed  this  faculty  to  my  camera,  the  medicine-men 
were  very  sceptical  of  the  eyeglass.  Still  I had  better 
fortune  than  Spruce,  for  one  day  when  I was  with  an 
Okaina  tribe,  a woman  of  my  party  went  down  with 
fever.  She  had  a temperature  of  103°  to  104°,  and 
the  quinine  with  which  I dosed  her  had  no  effect. 
There  happened  to  be  a great  and  noted  medicine-man 
in  the  district,  so  they  sent  for  him.  The  maloka,  some 
fifty  yards  from  wall  to  wall  each  way,  was  dark  as 
pitch.  Into  the  gloom  rushed  a frenzied  figure.  It  was 
the  medicine-man  in  a state  of  tremendous  excitement. 
He  passed  his  hands  frantically  all  over  the  woman’s  body. 
She  lay  rigid,  and  he  was  shaking  with  the  intensity  of  his 
emotion.  Never  in  my  life  have  I seen  a man  so  excited. 
If  he  were  play-acting  he  believed  most  emphatically  in  his 
own  play-acting.  Then  he  filled  his  mouth  with  coca,  and 
stooping  over  the  moribund  woman  put  his  lips  upon  hers. 
Eager  and  trembling,  he  sucked  up  the  contents  of  the 
woman’s  mouth,  then  rushed  out  of  the  house  and  ex- 
pectorated, emptying  his  mouth  with  his  fingers.  After  this 
he  announced  that  he  had  sucked  away  the  evil  spirit. 

1 Spruce,  ii  431. 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS  189 

Next  morning  the  woman  was  perfectly  well. 

I considered  it  the  most  extraordinary  faith  cure  : but 
there  was  no  burking  the  fact  that  a dying  woman  had  been 
restored  most  miraculously  to  health.  Certainly  imagina- 
tion goes  very  far  in  the  curative  process  with  a patient  in 
Amazonia — as  elsewhere, — but  even  allowing  for  this  it  was 
extraordinary. 

Faith  in  the  healing  powers  of  the  medicine-men  is  not 
confined  to  the  tribesmen,  for  I knew  one  case  of  an  Indian 
woman  who  had  been  married  for  years  to  a white  man 
and  lived  in  the  rubber  district.  She  fell  ill,  and  her  husband, 
instead  of  trusting  to  the  white  man’s  remedies,  insisted  on 
sending  for  a medicine-man. 


CHAPTER  XV 


Indian  dances — Songs  without  meaning — Elaborate  preparations — The 
Chief’s  invitation — Numbers  assembled — Dance  step — Reasons  for 
dances — Special  dances — Dance  staves — Arrangement  of  dancers — ■ 
Method  of  airing  a grievance — Plaintiff’s  song  of  complaint — The 
tribal  " black  list  ” — Manioc-gathering  dance  and  song — Muenane 
Riddle  Dance — A discomfited  dancer — Indian  riddles  and  mimicry — 
Dance  intoxication — An  unusual  incident — A favourite  dance — The 
cannibal  dance — A mad  festival  of  savagery — The  strange  fascination 
of  the  Amazon. 


Whatever  of  art  there  may  be  in  the  soul  of  the  tribesman 
finds  expression  in  the  dance.  It  is  the  concert  and  the 
play,  the  opera,  the  ball,  the  carnival,  and  the  feast  of  the 
Amazons,  in  that  it  gives  opportunity  for  the  aesthetic, 
artistic,  dramatic,  musical,  and  spectacular  aspirations  of 
the  Indian’s  nature.  It  is  his  one  social  entertainment,  and 
he  invites  to  it  every  one  living  in  amity  with  him.  Any 
excuse  is  enough  for  a dance,  but  nevertheless  the  affair  is  a 
serious  business.  The  dance,  like  the  tobacco  palaver,  is 
a dominant  factor  in  tribal  life.  For  it  the  Amazonian 
treasures  the  songs  of  his  fathers,  and  will  master  strange 
rhymes  and  words  that  for  him  no  longer  have  meaning  ; 
he  only  knows  they  are  the  correct  lines,  the  phrases  he 
ought  to  sing  at  such  functions,  because  they  always  have 
been  sung,  they  are  the  words  of  the  time-honoured  tribal 
melodies.1  It  is  for  these  occasions  that  he  fashions  quaint 


1 That  the  words  are  now  incomprehensible  may  have  arisen  from 
the  fact  that  the  songs  were  originally  intended  only  to  recall  things 
to  those  already  instructed,  in  the  same  way  that  Mexican  picture  records 
“ do  not  tell  their  stories  in  full,  but  only  recall  them  to  the  minds  of  those 
who  are  already  acquainted  with  them  ’’  (E.  B.  Tylor,  p.  96).  As  instruction 
and  memory  lapsed  the  words  would  become  mere  gibberish  Certainly 
all  these  tribes  appear  to  have  songs  they  can  no  longer  interpret.  La 
danse  est  accompagnee  des  chanles  ; je  regretie  de  n' avoir  pit  saisir  le  sens 

190 


PLATE  XLII. 


ANATTO,  BIX  A ORELLANA,  A RED  DYE,  OR  FAINT, 
IS  MADE  FROM  THE  SEED 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


191 


dancing-staves  and  wonderful  musical  instruments,  and  dons 
all  his  treasured  ornaments,  while  his  wife  paints  her  most 
dazzling  skin  costumes.  He  practises  steps  and  capers, 
tutors  his  voice  to  the  songs  ; meantime  his  children  rehearse 
assiduously  in  the  privacy  of  their  forest  playground, 
against  the  time  when  they  too  may  take  part  in  the  tribal 
festivities. 

The  entertainment  demands  elaborate  preliminaries. 
When  any  such  carnival  is  on  hand  the  old  women  of  the 
tribe  for  days  previously  are  busied  making  cassava,  and 
with  the  preparation  of  kawana  or  other  appropriate  drinks. 
The  amount  of  liquid  refreshment  necessary  for  a large  dance 
is  enormous,  in  view  of  the  custom  by  which  the  liquor- 
logged  native  simply  steps  aside,  and  by  the  insertion  of  a 
finger  down  the  throat  is  speedily  ready  for  a further  supply. 
During  the  four  or  five  days  that  a dance  continues  only  the 
old  men  among  the  Turuka  will  eat  anything,  and  that 
nothing  more  substantial  than  manioc  starch ; the  dancers 
merely  drink  hashiri. 

Nor  is  the  inner  man  only  to  be  considered.  All  sartorial 
treasures,  the  feathers  and  necklaces  of  the  men,  the  beaded 
girdles  of  the  women,  are  taken  from  their  receptacles,  the 
wardrobes  in  the  rafters  of  the  maloka.  The  men — for  the 


de  leurs  paroles  (Crevaux,  p.  ,104).  There  are  old  dances  with  words  no 
longer  understood  among  the  Tukano  (Koch-Grunberg,  p.  254).  This  is, 
of  course,  by  no  means  peculiar  to  the  Amazonian  Indians.  Some  of  the 
singing  games  played  by  children  in  British  New  Guinea  have  words  whose 
meanings  are  either  obscure  or  lost  (Barton,  J.R.A.I.,  p.  269).  Among  the 
Naga  tribes  the  language  of  the  songs  “ is  known  in  many  cases  to  be  now 
unintelligible  to  those  who  sing  them  ” (Hodson,  Naga  Tribes,  p.  68).  Corrob- 
borees  are  passed  from  one  tribe  to  the  other  among  the  Australian  natives, 
" the  result  is  that  the  words  are,  as  a general  rule,  quite  unintelligible  to 
the  performers”  (Spencer  and  Gillen,  Central  Australia,  p.  281).  Zulu 
charm  songs  are  said  to  be  incomprehensible  to  the  singers  (Callaway, 
Religious  System  of  the  Amazulu,  p.  413).  These  instances  might  be  multi- 
plied, but  they  suffice  to  show  that  this  survival  of  words  with  lost  meanings 
is  world- wide. 

As  a curious  contrast  to  this  we  find  that  the  Spanish  missionaries  in 
South  America  complained  that  they  had  great  difficulty  in  getting  their 
converts  to  remember  the  Ave  Maria  and  the  Paternoster  “ seeing  that  the 
words  were  mere  nonsense  to  them  ” (Tylor,  p.  96).  It  should  not  be  for- 
gotten though,  in  this  connection,  that  the  potency  of  a word  is  in  inverse 
ratio  to  its  incomprehensibility.  Cf.  Brinton,  Religions  of  Primitive 
Peoples,  p.  02. 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


192 

Amazonian  male  reserves  to  himself  the  greatest  brilliance 
of  attire  on  occasions  of  ceremony — array  themselves  in  their 
feather  tiaras,  with  necklaces,  armlets,  and  sounding  garters 
of  polished  nuts.  The  maidens  and  matrons  also  apply 
themselves  to  the  elaboration  of  their  toilets.  No  court 
dressmaker  ever  gave  more  anxious  thought  to  the  fashion- 
ing of  chef-d’ceuvre  in  silk  and  brocade  than  do  these  dusky 
daughters  of  Eve  to  the  tracing  of  circles,  angles,  bands,  and 
frets  upon  their  naked  skins.  Coquetry  is  as  essential  an 
accompaniment  of  the  savage  dance,  in  the  unmapped  bush 
of  the  Amazons,  as  in  a garlanded  ballroom  of  Mayfair.  The 
most  vain  of  English  beauties  probably  spends  less  time 
over  her  adornment  for  any  function  than  do  these  young 
women  as  they  squat  in  chattering  crowds  over  the  cala- 
bashes of  vegetable  dye,  white,  scarlet,  black,  or  purple,  with 
which  they  trace  upon  each  other  the  cunning  patterns  that 
make  their  only  dresses. 

When  these  preparations  are  satisfactorily  advanced  the 
chief,  or  some  one  in  authority,  despatches  his  invitations, 
no  formal  cards  entrusted  to  a postman,  but  a summons 
mysterious  as  a Marconigram,  and  imperious  as  a writ  of 
the  High  Court.  The  chief  takes  his  stand  between  the 
manguare,  the  signal  drums  slung  from  the  rafters  of  the 
great  house,  and  with  the  rubber-headed  drumstick  he  beats 
out  as  message  sonorous  notes  that  travel  to  every  Indian 
within  eight  or  nine  miles.  This  summons  is  no  mere 
manipulation  of  the  four  notes  which  constitute  the  range 
of  the  instrument,  but  an  articulate  message  to  convey  the 
time,  the  place,  and  the  purpose  of  the  meeting  to  the 
initiated. 

The  numbers  who  congregate  for  a dance  were  a constant 
source  of  astonishment  to  me.  Out  of  the  silent  and  track- 
less bush  scores  of  expectant  guests,  all  painted  and  feathered, 
will  pour  into  the  clearing  about  the  maloka,  at  the  time 
appointed  by  the  signal  drum,  and  by  nightfall  some 
hundreds  are  gathered.  Great  bonfires  are  set  ablaze,  and 
the  interior  of  the  tribal  lodge,  where  the  chief  has  a place 
in  the  centre,  flares  ruddy  with  the  light  of  torches.  The 
men  make  loud  clangour  with  their  instruments,  flutes,  pan- 


PLATE  XLriI. 


HALF  GOURDS  DECORATED  WITH  INCISED  PATTERNS,  MADE  BY  WITOTO 
NEAR  THE  MOUTH  OF  THE  KARA  PARANA  RIVER 


DUKAIYA  (OKA1NA)  RATTLE  MADE  BY  NUTSHELLS 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


193 


pipes,  or  drums,  and  out  in  the  clearing  they  form  into  line, 
clutching  their  jingling  dance-poles,  while  the  women  form 
up  facing  them.  Led  by  a strenuous  tribesman  clattering 
with  nuts  and  dried  seeds,  the  line  begins  its  perambulation 
of  the  maloka.  Forward  two  steps — thud  ! Backward  two 
steps — thud  ! Clattering  and  pattering,  with  the  fifes  shriek- 
ing high  above  all  other  sounds,  as  the  drums  growl  deep 
below,  the  procession  slowly  encircles  the  maloka,  and  then 
enters.  In  a frenzied  flutter  of  feathers  and  leaves  the 
performers  move  round  the  chief,  to  a jangle  of  seed-pods 
and  rattles,  till  the  company  is  completed,  and  the  tribal 
lodge  is  packed  with  the  dancers,  when  he  signals  for  silence. 
The  dance  stops.  The  instruments  cease  their  outcry,  and 
in  the  sudden  contrast  of  silence  the  chief  sings  a line  which 
is  the  keynote  of  the  occasion,  the  explanation,  the  reason 
for  the  assembly.  Then  dance  and  song  begin,  while  those 
who  are  not  taking  active  part  squat  round  upon  their 
haunches  and  ejaculate  hoarse  cries  of  approval  and  en- 
couragement at  intervals. 

As  aforesaid,  any  excuse  is  good  enough  reason  for  such  j 
festival.  Dances  take  place  continuously  : at  the  harvest 
of  the  pine-apple  and  the  manioc  ; at  the  conclusion  of  a 
successful  hunt  or  war-expedition  ; and  at  such  other  times 
in  the  Amazonian  season  as  the  chief  feels  moved  to  give 
entertainment.  As  the  weather  does  not  vary  sufficiently 
to  influence  the  harvesting  of  the  crops  at  any  particular 
date,  there  is  no  equivalent  to  our  harvest ; and,  though 
manioc  is  planted  as  a rule  just  before  the  heaviest  annual 
rainfall  becomes  due,  there  is  no  part  of  the  year  when  some 
of  the  roots  are  not  ready  to  gather.  Pines  are  most  plentiful 
in  October,  and  it  is  then  that  the  special  pine-apple  dances 
take  place.1 

The'  dance  takes  its  character  from  the  occasion.  The 
dancing  staff,  unless  the  dance  is  in  honour  of  some  specific 
thing,  is  undecorated,  merely  furnished  with  a calabash 
that  contains  nuts,  or  with  a carved  head  hollowed  for  the 
same  purpose,  and  is  sometimes  hung  with  bunches  of  dried 

1 Possibly  there  may  be  a second  pine  harvest  and  dance,  but  the 
great  feast  takes  place  in  October. 


O 


194 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


seeds  that  rattle  when  shaken  or  when  knocked  on  the 
ground.  These  form  important  additions  to  the  orchestra, 
and  to  the  garters  and  anklets  strapped  to  the  legs.  Very 
often  the  Indian  decorates  his  staff  with  palm  leaves  merely 
for  ornament,  but  in  the  harvest  dances  the  staves  are 
adorned  with  bunches  of  whatever  crop  is  to  be  honoured — 
a tuft  of  pine-apple  leaves  or  a bundle  of  manioc  shoots. 
The  Yakuna  carve  patterns  on  their  dance  staves.1  Among 
the  Tureka,  north  of  the  Japura,  dance  staves  are  a most 
important  possession,  and  are  looked  on  with  great  affection 
by  their  owners.  The  Tureka  men  wear  aprons  when  danc- 
ing, and  use  clappers  in  one  hand,  instead  of  the  horns  and 
rattle  used  alternately  by  the  Tukana.2  The  Menimehe 
carries  a club  in  his  right  hand.  On  the  Tikie,  dancers  are 
said  to  hold  a flute  in  the  left  hand,  and  always  to  have 
a green  twig  under  their  girdle.  Koch-Griinberg  further 
states  that  they  have  clay  whistles  with  which  they  blow 
at  dances  as  well  as  for  signals.  These  are  not  customs  of 
the  Issa-Japura  tribes. 

The  soloist  who  leads  the  dancers  from  the  start  outside 
the  maloka  very  probably  commences  by  executing  some 
fancy  high  stepping.  He  may,  for  instance,  prance  like  a 
stallion,  and  this  is  calculated  to  amuse  the  company  im- 
mensely. When  the  performers  get  too  heated  by  their 
exertions  in  the  house  they  will  file  outside,  still  dancing, 
and  after  a few  turns  on  the  open  space  in  front  of  the 
maloka,  will  return  within. 

Among  the  Okaina  and  the  Boro  the  hand  is  often 
placed  on  the  far  shoulder  of  the  next  in  line.  I 
especially  remember  one  endless  dance  in  an  Okaina  house 
in  which  all  free  performers  were  double  locked,  while  those 
in  possession  of  staves  or  rattles  were  content  with  a single 
lock  to  allow  freedom  for  one  hand.  The  dancers  invariably 
stand  in  single  file,  usually  with  one  hand  resting  on  the 
shoulder  of  the  next  in  line.  The  Menimehe  and  most  other 
tribes  place  the  left  hand  on  their  neighbour’s  right  shoulder, 
but,  according  to  Koch-Griinberg,  tribes  on  the  Tikie  place 

1 Koch-Griinberg  mentions  the  same  among  the  Opaina. 

2 Koch-Griinberg. 


PLATE  XLIV. 


OKAINA  GIRLS  PAINTED  FOR  DANCE 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


195 


the  right  hand,  though  the  Tukana  rest  the  left.  The  figure 
is  composed  of  a broken  circle  of  men  thus  linked  together, 
whilst  in  their  free  hands  they  hold  the  dancing  staves, 
rattles,  or  flutes.  Within,  and  concentric,  is  the  ring  of 
women  dancers,  who  face  the  men  and  maintain  a time 
which  is  complementary  and  not  identical  with  theirs.1 
North  of  the  Japura  in  some  cases  the  women  dance  between 
the  men  in  the  same  circle,2  or  the  men  and  the  younger 
girls  dance  round  the  elder  women.  When  dancing,  per- 
sonal touch  is  not  tabu  or  disliked,  possibly  because  it  is 
ceremonial  or  conventional.  In  most  of  these  dances  the 
woman  who  is  not  engaged  in  the  inner  circle  of  the  select — 
the  complementary  figure  of  the  dance — places  herself 
outside  the  outer  circle  with  her  left  hand  on  the  left  shoulder 
of  the  man  of  her  choice.  Her  frontal  portion  is  thus  at 
right  angles,  and  away  from  that  of  her  man. 

The  rhythm  of  the  dance  is  always  very  marked.  The 
figures  and  steps  are  simple,  neither  suggestive  nor  lascivious, 
and  wholly  destitute  of  the  lustful  invitation  of  the  dances 
of  the  East.  The  step  is  almost  invariably  a high,  prancing 
flexion  of  the  thigh  upon  the  body,  followed  by  a deliberate 
extension  to  the  ground,  repeated  two  or  three  times,  the 
advance  being  completed  with  a resounding  stamp  of  the 
right  foot  upon  the  earth,  according  to  the  accentua- 
tion of  the  measure.  The  same  steps  are  repeated  back- 
wards in  retiring,  although  less  ground  is  covered,  so  that 
the  dancers  sway  rhythmically  forward  and  backward ; 
but  the  end  of  each  movement  finds  the  whole  line  advanced 
some  little  distance  from  where  it  was  at  the  conclusion  of 
the  previous  one.  The  forward  movement  may  be  de- 
scribed simply  as,  right  foot  forward,  left  foot  forward, 
stamp  with  right,  right  foot  backward,  left  foot  back- 
ward, right  foot  back  in  position,  toe  on  ground,  to  start 

1 Maw  describes  quite  a different  arrangement  in  a dance  at  Tabitinga. 
" The  dancers  were  usually  linked  three  together,  one  principal  character 
supported  by  two  others,  one  on  each  side ; and  there  were  generally  two 
sets  dancing  at  the  same  time,  each  set  being  followed  by  women  and 
children  dancing  or  jumping  in  the  similar  manner  ” (Maw,  p.  220). 

2 Koch-Grunberg  mentions  a dance  among  tribes  north  of  the  Japura 
where  the  men  and  women  dance  together  in  pairs.  The  women  do  not 
wear  aprons,  and  at  the  end  of  the  figure  they  disappear. 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


196 

da  capo  right  foot  forward,  in  uninterrupted  repetition. 
Spruce  has  described  this  movement  as  “ a succession  of 
dactyls.”  1 In  stamping,  which  is  done  by  all  the  dancers 
in  unison,  the  knee  is  brought  up  to  a right  angle  with  the 
trunk,  and  the  foot  then  thrust  down  with  the  whole  weight 
of  the  body.  Toe  with  right  is  the  same  motion  as  stamp 
right,  but  with  only  a slight  flexion  of  the  knee,  and  com- 
paratively noiseless.  The  circles  move  to  the  right,  con- 
tinuing, but  almost  imperceptibly  on  account  of  slight 
change  of  ground.  The  Tureka  make  a jump  before  the 
stamp,  shout  at  the  end  of  the  figure,  and  whistle  through 
their  teeth. 

While  the  principal  dance  is  in  progress  a frequent  form 
of  side-show  to  the  main  entertainment  is  the  entrance  of 
a tribesman  with  a grievance.  He  will  have  made  for 
himself  the  most  remarkable  costume  he  can  devise,  and  to 
ensure  that  he  shall  gain  attention,  wears  upon  his  head  a 
veritable  “ matinee  hat  ” of  absurd  proportions.2  He  pays 
no  heed  to  the  dance  when  he  comes  into  the  maloka,  but 
stalks  solemnly  to  a position  in  the  sight  of  all,  though  he 
will  keep  out  of  the  actual  track  of  the  dancers.  Then, 
standing  stock-still  with  upraised  hand,  facing  neither  the 
performers  nor  the  “ sitters  out,”  but  in  any  chance  position, 
he  raises  his  staff  and  begins  to  recite  his  complaint  to  a 
monotonous  refrain.  The  following  is  a typical  instance  of 
what  may  be  chanted  : 

There  came  a man  this  morning  to  our  lodge — 

A man  who  took  cassava  from  my  woman. 

Cassava  she  gave  him  in  exchange  for  two  pines, 

For  two  pines  she  gave  him  much  cassava. 


1 Spruce,  i.  313. 

2 One  is  irresistibly  reminded  of  the  clown,  especially  of  the  comic  man 
who  usually  puts  in  an  appearance  at  military  sports.  It  is  possible  that 
this  custom  of  dressing-up  to  secure  attention  when  airing  a grievance  is 
what  has  been  mistaken  by  some  writers  for  a part  of  the  dance.  Sir  Roger 
Casement,  quoting  Maw  in  the  Contemporary  Review,  September  1912,  talks 
of  “ the  masked  men  ” as  " a necessary  part  of  each  performance.”  It  is 
certainly  quite  unknown  to  me,  for  I never  saw  or  heard  of  anything  of  the 
kind,  though  in  the  first  edition  of  Bates’s  Naturalist  on  the  River  Amazon 
the  frontispiece  of  the  second  volume  gives  a masked  dance  of  the  Tukuna, 
so  I do  not  suggest  that  masked  dancers  do  not  exist,  only  that  they  are 
not  known  among  the  tribes  of  the  Issa- Japura  valleys. 


PLATE  XLV. 


GROUP  OF  NONUYA,  MEN  AND  WOMEN 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


197 


But  where  are  the  pines  ? 

Where  are  the  pines  he  promised  ? 

Was  this  man  a thief  ? — 

This  man  who  took  cassava  from  my  woman.1 

Or  the  complaint  might  run  : 

I came  in  with  meat ; 

The  hungry  man  took  my  meat. 

But  promised  me  bread. 

He  gave  me  no  bread, 

And  my  belly  is  empty. 

The  following  is  a complaint  made  by  a Boro  chief’s 
daughter  of  her  treatment  by  her  own  tribe  : 

The  chief’s  daughter  was  lost  in  the  bush, 

And  no  one  came  to  find  the  spoor; 

The  branches  were  broken  and  the  leaves  were  turned, 

And  no  one  came  to  find  the  spoor. 

And  where  were  my  brothers  and  the  sons  of  the  chief’s  brothers, 
That  no  one  came  to  find  the  spoor  ? etc. 

The  petitioner  will  repeat  his  or  her  song  for  hours  without 
ceasing.  To  all  appearance  no  one  takes  the  slightest  notice 
of  his  presence,  unless  the  dance  should  come  to  an  end 
during  the  recitation,  when  the  performers  jeer  and  laugh 
at  his  tale  of  woe.  This  has  no  effect  upon  the  plaintiff, 
who  continues  gravely  to  voice  his  grievance.  The  chief 
must,  however,  take  note  of  the  matter,  and  if  it  be  thought 
of  sufficient  importance  it  is  brought  up  for  discussion  and 
judgment  at  the  next  tribal  conference  in  tobacco  palaver. 
At  any  rate,  this  method  of  airing  a grievance  has  the 
effect  of  placing  the  culprit  on  the  black-list,  in  view  of 
the  resultant  publicity ; and  the  natural  wariness  that  is 
shown  by  others  of  the  tribe  in  all  dealings  with  such 
suspect  for  the  future,  is  in  itself  a punishment  for  the 
crime. 

It  is  difficult  in  the  extreme  to  obtain  any  reliable  evidence 
of  the  existence  of  initiation  dances.  Sixty  years  ago  Dr. 
Russell  Wallace  described  as  the  initiation  dance  of  the  girls 

1 It  must  be  remembered  that  Indians  are  extraordinarily  generous,  or 
improvident,  in  the  matter  of  food.  I should  never  hesitate  to  join  a 
family  party  when  feeding,  without  waiting  for  an  invitation.  The  com- 
plaint in  question  probably  refers  to  a whole  basket  of  manioc  bartered 
in  the  plantation,  which  transaction  would  belong  to  quite  another  category. 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


198 

of  the  Uaupes  a dance  which,  six  years  ago,  Dr.  Koch- 
Griinberg,  the  latest  and  most  painstaking  of  Amazonian 
investigators,  found  as  a Jurupari  ceremony  confined  to 
men  on  the  river  Aiary.  The  dance  is  the  same  in  each 
case,  and  depends  for  its  distinction  upon  the  infliction  of 
serious  bodily  injury.  The  mysteries  of  initiation,  as  has 
been  said,  have  not  yet  been  fathomed  in  the  Amazons, 
nor  have  those  of  Jurupari.  There  is  undoubtedly  a dance 
in  which  the  performers  beat  their  fellows  with  lianas  until 
the  blood  is  drawn  and  the  victims  faint  with  pain,  but  no 
white  man  has  yet  spoken  with  certainty  upon  its  origin.1 
The  dance  is  not  known  in  the  district  between  the  Issa  and 
the  Japura,  nor  do  the  mysteries  of  initiation  fall  to  be 
discussed  in  this  chapter.  Those  are  not  matters  which  are 
readily  laid  bare  to  even  the  most  enterprising  investigator 
in  the  haunts  of  the  aborigines. 

According  to  Koch-Griinberg’s  account,  all  the  women, 
accompanied  by  the  smaller  boys,  leave  the  maloka  directly 
the  notes  of  the  flutes  are  heard,  and  either  hide  in  the  woods 
or  in  another  house  with  closed  exits.  The  performers 
circle  round  in  quick  marching  time,  blowing  their  flutes, 
which  each  holds  in  his  right  hand,  his  left  resting  on  the 
right  shoulder  of  the  next  man.  At  the  completion  of  the 
circle  they  stand  in  line.  One  dancer  then  draws  the  long 
whip  they  all  carry  under  their  right  arms,  and  while  his 
companion  holds  his  flute  high  up,  blowing  lustily,  he  gives 
him  three  blows  on  the  side  and  stomach  heavy  enough  to 
draw  blood  freely.  This  continues  till  all  have  taken  part. 
There  is  no  singing,  but  the  gaping  wounds  and  much  drink- 
ing of  kashiri  rouse  the  performers  to  a state  of  wild  excite- 
ment. This  dance  is  followed  by  an  ordinary  one,  in  which 
the  women  take  part.2  Obviously  none  of  the  Issa- Japura 

1 Crevaux  gives  an  account  of  an  initiation  dance  where  the  torture 
applied  is  by  means  of  the  application  of  stinging  ants  to  the  naked  bodies 
of  the  neophytes  (Crevaux,  pp.  245-50). 

2 Koch-Griinberg,  p.  188.  The  German  doctor  also  gives  an  account  of 
a dance  where  boys  and  girls  perform  in  couples.  When  the  figures  are 
ended  the  couples  withdraw  into  the  forest,  and  night  covers  subsequent 
proceedings.  This  takes  place  among  the  Yahuna  of  the  Kuretu  group. 
The  men  of  these  tribes  when  summoned  by  drum  to  a dance  leave  their 
women  behind  them. 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


199 


tribes  practise  this  dance,  for  I never  saw  any  signs  of  the 
scars  that  must  inevitably  remain  on  the  bodies  of  dancers 
cut  in  this  wholesale  fashion. 

The  account  given  by  Bates  of  a dance  at  the  Feast  of 
Fruits  among  the  Juri  and  the  Passe  Indians  is  an  equally 
good  description  of  some  of  the  Issa-Japura  harvest  dances. 
The  men  carry  long  reeds  instead  of  javelins,  and  with  their 
left  hands  on  their  neighbours’  right  shoulders  move  slowly 
. to  right  and  to  left.  The  accompaniment  is  a song  as 
drawling  and  monotonous  as  the  movement,  which  will  be 
continued  for  upwards  of  an  hour  at  a time.1 

In  the  pine-apple  dance  the  Indians  tie  pine  leaves  to 
boughs  and  wave  them  as  they  move.  The  women  of  the 
chief,  and  possibly  all  the  women  of  the  tribe,  form  a semi- 
circle with  the  chief  in  the  centre,  sometimes'  alone,  some- 
times with  others.  They  carry  the  mid-rib  of  the  Trooly 
palm  or  some  similar  wand,  with  a small  pine,  or  often  the 
pine-top,  tied  to  the  end. 

The  proceedings  at  all  harvest  dances  are  very  similar. 
I give  as  example  a Boro  dance  at  the  gathering  of  the 
manioc,  which  is  but  an  excuse  for  this  dance,  as  manioc  is 
pulled  up  at  all  times  and  seasons.  As  is  almost  universal 
in  Indian  dancing,  the  outer  circle,  or  rather  semicircle,  is 
composed  of  men.  The  women,  fewer  in  number,  stand 
together  in  the  centre,  or  each  behind  the  man  of  her  choice. 
Their  dancing  staves  are  all  decorated  with  bunches  of 
manioc  shoots.  The  woman,  with  the  nearer  hand  resting 
on  the  man’s  shoulder,  keeps  step  with  him,  moving  to  her 
own  front  and  not  sideways  like  the  man,  though  in  the 
same  direction.  The  inner  group  face  the  circle  of  men, 
and  their  steps  are  complementary  to  those  of  the  men,  and 
not  identical  with  them.  The  chief  starts  the  dance  with 
the  first  line  of  the  song,  his  wife  replies,  and  her  answer  is 
echoed  by  the  chorus  of  the  chief’s  women. 

Chief. 

I am  old  and  weak  and  my  belly  craves  food. 

Who  has  sown  the  pika  2 in  the  emie  ? 3 


1 Bates,  ii.  207. 


2 Manioc. 


3 Plantation. 


200 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


Wife. 

I have  sown  the  pika  long,  long  ago. 

The  maica  1 is  sown  with  young  shoots. 

Chorus. 

We  have  sown  the  pika  long,  long  ago. 

The  maica  is  sown  with  young  shoots. 

Chief. 

I am  old  and  weak  and  my  belly  craves  food. 

Who  has  cut  the  pika  in  the  emie  ? 

Wife. 

I,  even  I myself,  have  cut  the  maica. 

The  maica  is  cut  in  the  emie. 

Chorus. 

We,  even  we  ourselves,  have  cut  the  maica. 

The  maica  is  cut  in  the  emie. 

Chief. 

I am  old  and  weak  and  my  belly  craves  food. 

Who  has  soaked  the  maica  for  the  mao  ? 2 

Wife. 

I,  even  I myself,  have  soaked  the  maica. 

I have  soaked  the  maica  for  the  mao. 

Chorus. 

We,  even  we  ourselves,  have  soaked  the  maica. 

We  have  soaked  the  maica  for  the  mao. 

The  whole  process  of  growing,  harvesting,  and  preparing 
the  manioc  for  cassava  is  thus  related,  then  the  chief  will 
ask  : 

Who  has  made  the  mao  that  I may  eat  ? 

That  my  belly  may  swell  with  mao  ? 

Wife. 

I,  even  I,  have  made  the  mao, 

And  my  belly  will  swell  with  mao. 

Chorus. 

We,  even  we  ourselves,  have  made  the  mao. 

We  will  all  eat  that  our  bellies  may  swell, 

That  our  bellies  may  swell  with  mao. 

Chief. 

Ina  ? ina  ? s that  your  bellies  are  swollen  ? 

Who  has  eaten  the  mao  from  the  pika — 

The  pika  in  the  emie  ? 


1 Manioc  root. 


2 Cassava. 


3 What  is  it  ? what  is  it  ? 


PLATE  XL VI. 


MUENANE  DANCE 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


201 


The  suggestion  is  obviously  that  the  women  have  stolen 
and  eaten  the  cassava  of  the  chief,  but  it  is  made  solely 
to  bring  in  the  sexual  suggestion.  The  women  deny  the 
imputation,  and  declare  that  their  bellies  are  empty,  or  that 
they  are  great  with  child,  not  swollen  with  mao.  The  chief 
will  then  ask  why,  or  when,  the  belly  fills  with  child,  and  so 
the  song  continues  on  the  lines  of  the  sexual  ideas  introduced 
until  the  finale  is  reached,  when  the  chief  would  sing  : 

Imine,  imine, 

The  women  are  good  women, 

Imine} 

The  Muenane,  who  occupy  a part  of  the  central  Issa- 
Japura  watershed,  between  the  Andoke  and  the  Resigero, 
possess  a dance  of  their  own,  which  has  travelled  into  many 
of  the  other  tribes  south  of  the  Japura,  and  has  become  very 
popular.2  This  is  a combination  of  a riddle  and  an  animal 
dance.  The  figure  is  formed  as  in  the  pine-apple  dance, 
but  the  centre  is  taken  by  a warrior  who  has  gained  a re- 
putation as  a wit.  His  business  is  to  ask  a riddle,  which 
will  in  all  probability  be  an  original  one,  and  he  asks 
it  after  the  manner  of  a chant.  Naturally  a man  with  at 
least  the  indigenous  sense  of  wit  is  loudly  applauded  and 
received  with  shrieks  of  laughter  from  the  outset.  The 
dancers  take  up  the  chanted  question  as  they  rotate  round 
the  questioner.  At  the  end  of  the  measure  the  dance  stops, 
and  the  riddler  rushes  frantically  round  the  circle  with  a 
lighted  torch,  looking,  like  Alcibiades,  for  a man — to  answer 
his  riddle.  He  stops  suddenly,  thrusts  his  torch  into  the 
face  of  a performer,  and,  peering  into  his  eyes  to  seek  for 
some  sign  of  answering  intelligence,  repeats  his  question. 
The  answer,  if  in  the  negative,  is  given— whatever  the  tribe 
dancing  may  be — in  the  tongue  of  the  originators  of  the 
dance,  Muenane — “Jana”  (I  do  not  know).  The  dancer 
thereupon,  having  failed  to  reply  correctly,  is  then  impressed 
to  be  a follower  of  the  questioner,  and  must  rush  after  him 

1 It  is  good. 

3 As  proof  that  this  dance  is  borrowed,  and  not  common  to  all  the 
tribes  that  dance  it,  is  the  fact  that  all  tribes,  whatever  their  language- 
group,  use  the  Muenane  words  for  the  answer. 


202 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


and  imitate  all  his  antics,  which  are  apparently  to  give  the  clue 
to  the  riddle.  In  a short  time  a long  single  file  of  these 
failures  is  engaged  in  presenting  a burlesque  of  the  habits 
of  the  animal  whose  name  is  the  answer  required.  The  first 
performer  who  guesses  correctly  becomes  the  questioner  in 
turn,  and  the  dance  starts  afresh. 

It  may  be  pertinent  here  to  relate  an  incident  which  tends 
to  convey  at  least  an  insight  into  the  Indian  character, 
the  lack  of  altruism,  the  love  of  discomfiture  of  others. 
On  one  occasion  the  questioner — evidently  to  take  a rise 
out  of  a stranger,  and  being  intoxicated,  if  not  with  coca  at 
least  with  the  dancing  mania — thrust  his  torch  into  my  face, 
nearer  than  would  be  tolerated  in  the  usual  way.  I quickly 
placed  my  foot  on  his  chest,  with  the  resultant  back-somer- 
sault of  torch  and  man.  The  shrieks  of  laughter  lasted  a 
considerable  time.  I was  the  hero  of  the  hour,  and  custom 
decreed  that  the  victim  should  laugh  at  his  own  discomfiture. 

All  Indians  are  clever  mimics,  and  the  fidelity  with  which 
they  reproduce  the  actions  of  jaguars,  tapirs,  monkeys, 
parrots,  and  other  familiar  animals  of  the  bush  is  remarkable. 
The  riddles  are  nearly  always  concerned  with  animals,  and 
the  test  of  wit  is  the  amount  of  sexual  suggestion  contained 
in  the  reply.1  A typical  query  is,  “ When  is  a howler-monkey 
not  a howler  ? ” The  answer  would  be,  “ When  he  is  cover- 
ing his  mate.”  The  dumb  show  of  the  actors  delights  the 
audience,  and  leaves  no  small  characteristic  to  the  imagina- 
tion. The  riddles  may  defy  translation,  but  the  actions  are 
certainly  not  beyond  interpretation. 

In  this  connection  it  is  well  to  refer  again  to  the  subject 
of  dance  intoxication.  The  excitement  due  to  rhythmic 
motion  struck  me  very  forcibly.  It  should  be  remembered 
too  that  the  men  are  heroic  cocainists,  and  this  stimulant, 
in  forcing  the  imagination,  undoubtedly  for  the  moment — 
qua  alcohol — has  an  aphrodisiacal  tendency.  The  sexual 
innuendoes  of  the  songs,  though  not  of  the  dance,  increase 
the  effect.  It  must  also  be  borne  in  mind  that  five  days 
and  nights  is  not  an  uncommon  limit  to  one  dance.  It 
may  cease  at  sunrise  for  a short  space,  and  individuals, 

1 See  Appendix. 


PLATE  XLVII. 


OKAINA  DANCE 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS  203 

of  course,  rest  and  sleep  as  nature  may  dictate,  but  never, 
to  my  knowledge,  for  any  length  of  time. 

On  one  occasion  I was  witness  to  the  most  remarkable 
salacity  on  the  part  of  an  individual.  In  my  innocence  I 
considered  it  part  of  the  dance,  and  was  satisfied  with  the 
idea  that  I had  at  last  happed  upon  the  indigenous  counter- 
part of  the  coition  and  parturition  dances  of  the  East.  It 
was  not  until  the  man  was  restrained  by  order  of  the  chief 
that  the  true  facts  were  realised.1  But  this  was  exceptional. 
The  dance  is  carried  on  with  frenzy  and  excitement,  but 
with  nothing  beyond  that.  It  never  touches  eroticism.2 
The  dance  never  ends,  as  we  know  ending.  It  dwindles  to 
cessation. 

Another  dance,  much  appreciated  by  the  tribes  between 
the  Issa  and  the  Japura,  is  not  very  dissimilar  in  essentials 
from  the  musical  chairs  of  our  childhood.  The  dancers  form 
into  a line,  or  two  parallel  lines,  and,  headed  by  the  song- 
leader,  carry  out  the  customary  step  in  single  file.  At  the 
leader’s  mention  of  a certain  word,  or  perhaps  a certain 
subject,  previously  agreed  upon,  the  whole  line  must  right- 
about turn,  and  pick  up  the  step  again  without  losing  a beat. 
Those  who  fail  are  withdrawn  from  the  line.  The  dance 
continues  until  the  fittest  alone  remain,  and  is  productive 
of  general  amusement. 

But  there  are  more  tragic  inspirations  for  a dance  than 
the  guessing  of  riddles  or  the  gamering  of  the  crops.  I refer 
to  the  triumphant  home-coming  of  tribal  warriors,  laden  with 
booty  from  the  war-path,  with  a band  of  doomed  prisoners. 
The  treatment  of  the  latter  and  their  disposal  at  the  feast 

1 The  individual  in  question  was  labouring  under  the  most  extra- 
ordinary sexual  excitement.  This  may  have  been  due  to  coca  influence, 
to  the  lubricity  of  the  song  words,  or  to  the  intoxication  due  to  rhythmic 
movement.  The  first  two  possible  causes  are  eliminated  by  the  fact 
that  Indians  are  almost  continually  under  the  influence  of  the  drug,  and 
that  no  song  could  be  more  lewd  than  the  ordinary  conversation  of  these 
people. 

2 These  Muenane  riddle  dances  somewhat  resemble  the  Pirapurasseya, 
or  fish  dance,  seen  by  Bates  at  Ega.  The  performers  joined  hands  in  a ring 
and  questioned  the  leader  in  the  centre,  who  finally  might  try  to  rush  the 
ring,  and  when  successful  was  succeeded  by  whoever  might  be  responsible 
for  his  escape  (Bates,  ii.  276).  im  Thurn’s  description  of  a Guiana  animal 
dance  also  tallies  more  or  less  with  these  dances.  See  im  Thurn,  p.  324. 


204 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


have  been  already  dealt  with.  But  the  cannibal  ritual  of 
insult  is  not  the  end.  When  the  orgy  of  blood  and  gluttony 
is  over,  the  warriors  must  dance.  Only  the  men  may  take 
part  in  the  feast,  so  only  the  men  may  participate  in  this 
dance.  The  music  is  chiefly  that  of  the  drums,  and  to  their 
gloomy  rolling — according  to  Robuchon’s  account — the 
warriors  lurch  portentously,  drunk  already  with  victory, 
and  excited  by  dancing.  They  break  apart  frequently  to 
stir  the  great  troughs  of  liquor  with  the  forearms  of  their  dead 
enemies,  and  to  quaff  deep  calabashes  full  of  drink.  Then 
they  stagger  back  to  the  wild  intoxication  of  the  dance. 
Their  songs  become  shrieks,  demoniacal,  hellish.  For  eight 
days  this  horrible  dance  of  triumph  continues,  while  the 
captive  boys  and  girls,  young  enough  to  be  saved  from  the 
fate  of  the  earthen  pot,  cower  in  the  darkness  of  the  maloka 
and  suffer,  perforce  in  silence,  the  gibes  of  the  women.  But 
this  scene  defies  description. 

Set  against  the  darkly  impressive  background  of  the 
forest  any  tribal  dance  gives  an  amazing  effect  of  kaleido- 
scopic light  and  colour  when,  with  nightfall,  by  the  flare  of 
great  fires  and  the  glow  of  torches,  the  performance  begins. 
The  chosen  soloist  of  the  tribe  jangling  his  circlets  of  nuts, 
sounding  his  gourd  rattle,  in  a falsetto  voice  sings  the  ancient 
air  of  the  dance.  The  warriors  follow  the  melody  in  canon. 
Then  slowly  the  great  line  of  naked  men,  arms  interlocked 
about  each  other’s  necks,  surges  forward  two  steps  in  perfect 
time,  pauses  a moment,  then  recedes  two  steps.  In  a little 
while  the  whole  earth  shakes  with  the  swing  of  the  movement. 
It  is  like  the  flowing  and  ebbing  of  mighty  waves  upon  a 
shore.  It  intoxicates  with  the  recurrence  of  the  accentua- 
tion. Slowly  round  the  big  maloka  the  procession  passes, 
swaying  in  unison.  The  streaked  and  banded  women  dance 
uniformly  in  an  opposite  direction.  The  fires  splutter  and 
blaze.  The  torches  cast  strange  shadows.  The  flutes,  the 
pan-pipes,  and  the  drums  blare,  bleat,  and  boom  their 
barbaric  accompaniment. 

It  is  a mad  festival  of  savagery.  The  naked  men  are 
wildly  excited  ; their  eyes  glare,  their  nostrils  quiver,  but 
they  are  not  drunk.  The  naked  women  abandon  themselves 


PLATE  XLVIII 


OKAINA  DANCE 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


205 


to  the  movement  of  the  dance  ; they  scream  their  chorus  to 
the  tribal  dance-song  ; but  they  are  not  lewd.  There  is  about 
it  an  all-pervading,  illimitable  delirium.  The  wild  outburst 
affects  even  the  stranger  in  their  midst.  Forgotten  cells 
in  his  brain  react  to  the  stimulus  of  the  scene.  He  is  no 
longer  apart,  alien  in  speech  and  feeling.  He  locks  arms 
in  the  line  of  cannibals,  sways  in  rhythm  with  them,  stamps 
as  solemnly,  and  sings  the  meaningless  words  as  fervently 
as  the  best  of  them.  He  has  bridged  an  age  of  civilisation, 
and  returned  to  barbarism  in  the  debased  jetsam  of  the  river 
banks.  It  is  the  strange  fascination  of  the  Amazons. 


CHAPTER  XVI 


Songs  the  essential  element  of  native  dances — Indian  imagination  and 
poetry — Music  entirely  ceremonial — Indian  singing — Simple  melodies 
— Words  without  meaning — Sense  of  time — Limitations  of  songs — 
Instrumental  music — Pan-pipes — Flutes  and  fifes — Trumpets — Juru- 
pari  music  and  ceremonial — Castanets — Rattles — Drums — The  man- 
guare — Method  of  fashioning  drums — Drum  language — Signal  and 
conversation — Small  hand-drums. 

In  considering  the  native  dances  it  must  be  remembered 
that  the  accompanying  songs  are  essential  elements  of  the 
entertainment : they  mark  the  character  of  the  dance  ; 
and  equally,  in  considering  the  songs,  it  must  be  remem- 
bered that  the  imagination  of  the  native  never  goes  beyond 
the  relation  of  the  sexes.  The  Indian’s  poetry  is  an  inverted 
form  of  romanticism.  Instead  of  seeking  to  give  rhythmical 
expression  to  an  idealisation,  to  find  in  the  beauties  of 
Nature  an  analogy  to  the  realities  of  Life,  he  reverses  the 
process.  For  instance,  he  views  a ripe  fruit,  and  it  only 
suggests  to  him  a pregnant  woman.  In  all  such  natural 
phenomena  as  he  recognises  he  notes  but  the  crude,  if 
possibly  the  scientific,  origin.  In  the  most  ordinary  con- 
versation he  refers  to  conditions  that  appear  indecent  in 
common  print  ; they  are,  however,  undetachable  from  him. 

So  it  is  that  in  his  songs  he  debases  idealism,  does  not 
elevate  realism.  His  poetry  is  on  a par  with  that  of  the 
music-hall  comedian  who  conceals  a mass  of  filth  under 
avowedly  innocent  words — but  the  intention  is  very  different. 
The  Indian  possesses  no  other  verbal  vehicle,  knows  no  other 
source  of  inspiration.  His  imagination  is  bound  by  his 
vocabulary,  as  his  vocabulary  is  limited  by  his  imagination. 
Curiously  enough  the  effect  upon  his  audience  is  gained  by 
the  same  means  as  those  employed  by  the  red-nosed  singer 

206 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


207 


in  the  places  of  entertainment  south  of  the  Bridges,  and  is 
almost  identical  in  degree.  Some  of  the  Londoners  of  the 
County  Council  schools  have  advanced  ethically  but  little 
beyond  their  naked  brothers  of  the  Amazonian  bush. 

These  Indians  cannot  be  said  to  love  music  for  its  own 
sake.  The  use  of  music  in  any  form  is  almost  entirely 
ceremonial.  They  neither  sing  nor  play  instruments  as  a 
rule  merely  for  pleasure.  On  the  occasions  of  their  festivals 
and  dances,  though,  they  give  evidence  of  the  possession  of 
voices  of  considerable  flexibility.  They  also  display  much 
ingenuity  in  the  manufacture  of  their  instruments,  and, 
next  to  their  weapons,  the  pan-pipes,  flutes,  and  drums  are 
most  carefully  fashioned  and  preserved.  In  fact,  these 
take  precedence  over  all  domestic  implements,  and  even 
most  ornaments. 

The  native  singing  voice  is  loud,  high,  and  shrill.  The 
male  leader — as  a rule  it  is  a man  who  is  appointed,  and 
he  may  be  any  one  who  knows  the  old  songs — sings  the 
solo,  to  give  the  chorus  their  cue,  in  a high  falsetto  which 
is  very  penetrating,  and  marks  both  time  and  tune  for  the 
others  to  follow  in  canon.  The  song  is  started  softly, 
and  gradually  increases  both  in  volume  and  speed.  Accord- 
ing to  the  circumstances,  the  subject,  and  the  occasion,  the 
men  sing  alone,  the  women  sing  alone,  or  the  men  and 
women  combine  as  in  the  tribal  dances.  Most  of  the  singing 
is  done  in  unison,  with  a regular  drone  accompaniment  from 
those  not  actually  articulating  the  words.  The  songs  are 
sung  in  regular  time,  to  the  accompaniment  of  stamping, 
but  not  with  hand-clapping.  The  melodies  are  simple,  and 
in  the  definite  tribal  songs  consist  of  little  more  than  a 
single  phrase  that  seems  to  admit  of  no  variation,  and  is 
repeated  ad  libitum,  as,  for  example,  Mariana  Keibeio,  a 
Boro  tribal  song.  The  tune  of  this,  notated  from  memory, 
and  in  part  from  a phonograph  record,  runs  approximately, 
so  far  as  it  can  be  rendered  in  our  notation  : 


What  this  implies  no  Indian  now  knows,  for  with  all 


Ma  - ri  - a - na  Kei  - bei  - o Ma  - ri  - a - na  Kei  - bei  - o. 


208 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


tribal  songs  the  natives  offer  no  explanation  of  their  mean- 
ing or  their  origin.  They  are  the  songs  that  their  fathers 
sang,  and  one  can  find  no  evidence  of  the  amendation  or 
emendation  of  the  score  on  the  part  of  their  descendants. 
These  tribal  lays  are  so  old  that  the  words  are  obsolete  and 
no  longer  understood  by  the  singers  ; what  is  of  importance 
is  the  rhythm,  and  to  that,  as  is  common  with  uncivilised 
peoples,  the  music  is  largely  subordinated.  It  is  but  an 
accompaniment  to  the  dancing.  “ The  sense  of  time  ” in 
the  Indian,  as  Stevenson  noted  among  the  South  Sea 
Islanders,  “ is  extremely  perfect,”  and  one  might  complete 
the  quotation  and  add,  “ I conceive  in  such  a festival  that 
almost  every  sound  and  movement  fell  in  one.”  1 It  is  not 
an  easy  matter  to  discuss,  because  the  English  and  the 
Indian  standpoint  are  so  diametrically  opposite.  So  far  as 
I could  judge  the  tunes  are  usually  in  a minor  key,  both 
melody  and  harmony  being  of  the  simplest. 

There  are  no  love-songs  among  the  Indians,  for  the  poetic 
conception  of  love  does  not  exist.  Sacred  songs  and  nursery 
songs  are  equally  lacking.  A mother  never  croons  to  her 
baby  ; she  does  not  understand  a lullaby.  War-songs  are 
merely  the  expression  of  the  war-dance  ; they  depend  for 
their  significance  upon  the  words  and  for  their  ferocity  upon 
the  grim  accentuation  of  the  chorus. 

At  the  time  of  the  harvest  of  pine-apples,  when  the  great 
dance  is  held,  the  men  sing  the  challenge,  and  the  women 
reply  in  their  own  defence.  The  songs  are  similar  to  that 
sung  at  the  manioc-gathering  dance,  and  I have  previously 
tried  to  give  some  idea  of  such  a song. 

Apart  from  the  traditional  songs  of  the  tribes,  which  are 
sacred  and  unchangeable,  the  Indians  are  very  fond  of  a 
form  of  song  which  is  really  a game  rather  than  a musical 
effusion.  More  correctly,  perhaps,  it  should  be  called  a 
ballad.2  A leader  of  acknowledged  fertility  of  imagination 
and  fluency  of  expression  is  appointed,  as  for  the  Muenane 

1 R.  L.  Stevenson.  In  the  South  Seas  (Pocket  Edition,  1908),  p.  100. 

2 “ Dancing  to  the  accompaniment  of  the  human  voice  only.  The 
word  ballad  is  derived  from  this.”  Ital.  ballare  — to  dance.  See  Games, 
Sports,  and  Pastimes,  by  D.  H.  Moutray  Read,  in  the  new  Folklore 
Handbook. 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


209 


riddle  dance,  and  will  collect  the  members  of  the  tribe  for 
what  is  actually  an  impromptu  dance.  He,  or  she,  will 
chant  to  an  improvised  air  with  a simple  rhythm,  while  the 
chorus  repeat  each  line  or  its  burden  as  a refrain.  Such  songs 
give  opportunity  for  all  the  wit  of  the  tribe.  They  are 
designed  either  to  honour  or  to  ridicule  the  subject  of  the 
ballad.  In  reality  a composition  of  this  description  takes 
hours  to  sing.  The  first  wit  propounds  the  question,  the 
chorus  repeat  it,  and  the  second  wit  then  suggests  the 
answer,  which  is  again  repeated  by  all  amid  much  laughter, 
and  the  repetition  is  continued  not  once  but  twenty  times, 
until  the  first  wit  breaks  in  with  a new  query.  This  is  a 
very  favourite  game  among  the  women. 

The  following  is  an  attempt  to  suggest  the  song-words  of 
a dance  performed  by  some  Witoto  for  my  benefit,  though 
I do  the  Indians  too  much  justice,  give  too  great  an  idea  of 
continuity,  in  this  version.  There  is  no  cohesion  in  their 
productions,  and  reiteration  is  the  salient  feature  of  all. 
The  sound  and  the  rhythm  suggested  to  me  at  the  time  the 
metre  of  Hiawatha,  so  I give  this  song  in  an  attempt  at 
Hiawathian  measure.  But  the  adaptation  is  really  too 
varied  for  the  Indian  original.  I was  outside  the  maloka 
when  the  women  started — no  men  took  part— and  they 
danced  in  front  of  me.  After  a time  I went  inside,  and  the 
performers  promptly  followed  me,  and  continued  to  dance 
in  the  central  space  of  the  house.  Naturally  not  one  word 
would  have  been  sung  if  these  dancers  had  known  it  would 
be  interpreted  to  me. 

To  our  tribe  there  comes  a stranger, 

Comes  a welcomed,  honoured  stranger. 

And  whence  comes  to  us  this  stranger  ? 

From  what  far  and  foreign  country  ? 

Wherefore  comes  this  friend  among  us  ? 

What  the  quest  that  brings  him  hither  ? 

Are  there  in  his  native  country 
Empty  fields  and  unkind  women, 

That  he  comes  to  seek  among  us, 

So  to  satisfy  his  wishes  ? 

By  what  name  is  called  the  stranger  ? 

Tell  us  what  his  people  call  him. 


P 


210 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


Call  him  Whiffena  Ri-e-i  ; 

Call  him  Whiffena,  the  White  Man. 
Partly,  too,  his  name’s  Itoma. 

But — his  friends  and  bosom  cronies — 
Tell  us,  how  do  they  address  him  ? 
He  is  nicknamed  by  his  cronies 
Ei-fo-ke,  the  Turkey  Buzzard. 


Ei-fo-ke,  the  Turkey  Buzzard, 

Is  this,  then,  the  name  endearing 
That  his  lovers  whisper  to  him 
When  of  him  they  grow  enamoured  ? 

No,  not  good  ! The  Turkey  Buzzard 
Is  a bird  with  beak  of  scarlet, 

Yes,  a long  sharp  beak  of  scarlet, 

And  a loose  and  hanging  wattle. 

No,  his  name  is  not  Ei-fo-ke. 

Let  his  love-name  be  Okaina  ! 

This  went  on  ad  nauseam.  The  true  object  in  all  such 
songs  is  to  bring  in  and  discuss  sexual  matters,  and  no 
song  has  advanced  far  before  it  has  become  essentially 
carnal  in  idea  and  thoroughly  licentious  in  expression. 

Although  instruments  are  always  employed  at  the  dances 
they  do  not  seem  to  be  introduced  with  any  idea  of  organised 
accompaniment,  but  only  to  help  swell  the  body  of  sound. 
The  natives,  being  ignorant  of  the  use  of  metal,  have  been 
forced  to  make  their  instruments  entirely  of  vegetable 
substances  ; the  only  other  material  used  is  bone,  human 
bone,  bien  entendu,  and  judging  from  a specimen  presented 
by  Robuchon  to  the  British  Museum,  the  shell  of  a small 
land  tortoise.  Their  instruments  of  percussion  are  drums, x 
castanets,  and  rattles  : their  wind-instruments  are  flutes 
and  pan-pipes.  Very  rarely  a solitary  Indian  may  be  found 
playing  the  flute,  apparently  for  his  personal  amusement 
and  solace.  As  a rule,  it  is  merely  used  in  combination  with 
its  fellows  to  increase  the  volume  of  sound  without  heed  to 
its  proper  place  in  harmony. 

The  pan-pipes  are  the  simplest  of  all  instruments  of 
Amazonian  music  to  make,  and  are  the  most  universally 
popular.  They  consist  of  a bundle  of  reeds — three,  five,  six, 
seven,  ten,  or  even  seventeen  in  number — bound  together 


PLATE  XLIX. 


PANPIPES 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


211 


with  palm-fibre,  or,  on  the  Napo,  with  finely  split  cane. 
Although  the  pipes  are  cut  to  lengths  yielding  the  necessary 
musical  intervals,  the  number  seems  to  be  purely  arbitrary. 
They  are  used  in  concert  with  all  other  instruments,  and 
mark  so  much  of  tune  as  the  Indian  orchestra  strives  to 
attain.  The  pan-pipes  shown  in  the  accompanying  illustra- 
tion are  Witoto  instruments  contrasted  with  the  neater 
finish  of  one  made  on  the  Napo.  The  latter  has  the  greater 
number  of  pipes,  and  all  relatively  smaller.  There  is 
nothing  complicated  about  the  make  of  either  set.  The 
cane  pipes  are  cut  immediately  below  the  natural  joint, 
and  the  node  is  thus  made  to  serve  as  a stop.1 

The  ubiquitous  bamboo  also  furnishes  the  material  for 
a larger  flute,  and  flutes  or  fifes  are  made  out  of  the  arm-bones 
of  prisoners  taken  in  battle.  After  the  victim  is  killed  and 
eaten  the  humerus  is  cleaned,  its  extremities  opened,  and 
the  soft  matrix  scooped  out.  Finger-holes  are  bored  in  the 
shaft  of  the  bone,  usually  three  in  number,  but  occasionally 
five.  When  human  bones  are  not  forthcoming  the  tribesman 
uses  the  leg-bone  of  a jaguar.  This  is  opened  at  the  end 
and  furnished  with  a wax  stop  that  leaves  a small  canal 
open  to  a three  - cornered  air  - hole.  Occasionally  one  of 
these  flutes  is  made  with  both  ends  open,  in  which  case  a 
square  or  semicircular  hole  is  cut  out  from  the  upper  rim. 
The  flute  is  held  against  the  lower  lip,  and  commonly  has 
three,  or  more  rarely  four,  sound-holes.  Flutes  are  also 
made  of  heron-bones,  open  at  the  lower  end,  with  a square 
air  - hole,  and  generally  four  sound  - holes.  These  have 
mouthpieces  made  of  leaves,  and  their  tones  are  exceedingly 
shrill.  But  the  most  curious  instruments  of  which  I have 
note  are  flutes  made  from  skulls  of  animals,  by  covering 
them  with  pitch,  and  only  leaving  open  the  holes  of  the  nose 
and  the  occipital  bone.  One  hole  is  blown  through,  the 
other  is  the  sounding-hole.  Many  of  the  Indian  instruments, 
especially  the  bone  flutes,  are  gaily  ornamented  with  elabor- 
ate incised  patterns  that  are  dyed  black  and  red  with 

1 North  of  the  Japura  the  tribes  use  what  are  known  as  Y apurutu  pan- 
pipes, which  are  usually  played  in  pairs.  The  Tukana  call  them  bupupo 
or  yap urato  (Koch-Griinberg,  p.  300). 


212 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


vegetable  extracts.  The  flutes  are  also  adorned  with 
tassels  of  cotton  or  palm-fibre. 

The  flute  or  fife  is  played  from  the  extremity  that  is 
rudely  fashioned  into  a mouthpiece.  No  native  trumpets 
are  provided  with  sliding  tubes  like  the  familiar  trombone, 
and  there  is  no  plug  in  the  mouth-hole.  Nor  are  any  of 
the  Amazonian  wind-instruments  fitted  with  a vibrating 
reed.  There  are  no  bagpipes,  and,  in  the  regions  I traversed, 
no  stringed  instruments.  Certain  tribes  north  of  the  Japura, 
notably  the  Desana,  use  whistles  made  of  clay,  which  they 
employ  both  as  alarm  signals  and  as  adjuncts  to  the  dance. 

Trumpets  of  bark  and  bamboo  have  an  irregular  distri- 
bution. Many  tribes  dispense  with  them  on  all  ordinary 
occasions,  and  confine  their  use  to  Jurupari  music.  These 
sacred  instruments  constitute  one  of  the  most  profound 
mysteries  of  the  Amazon.  They  are  lengthy  affairs,  made 
from  the  hollow  stem  of  a palm,  and  fitted  with  a trumpet 
mouthpiece.  The  note  is  akin  to  that  of  the  bassoon. 
These  trumpets  are  tribal  possessions,  and  are  kept  con- 
cealed at  a distance  from  the  maloka,  in  a hut  which  the 
women  are  never  permitted  to  enter,  and  where  the  various 
secret  paraphernalia  connected  with  boy  initiation — such 
as  the  whips  of  tapir  hide — are  stored.  It  is  a capital 
crime  for  any  woman  even  to  set  eyes  upon  them.  The 
Jurupari  trumpet  is  as  tabu  to  Indian  women  as  the  bull- 
roarer  of  the  Australian  native  is  to  his  women-folk.1  The 
Indian  girls  are  brought  up  in  the  belief  that  the  music  of 
the  trumpets  is  an  essential  element  in  the  exorcism  of  the 
evil  spirit  from  the  body  of  the  youthful  initiate,  and  that 
any  interference  on  their  part  must  lead  to  the  eternal 
residence  of  such  spirit  in  the  novice,  to  the  consequent 
disaster  of  the  tribe,  and  this  belief  holds  good  all  their  lives.2 
No  sooner  is  Jurupari  music  heard  approaching  the  maloka 

1 Cf.  Howitt,  Native  Tribes  of  South-East  Australia,  p.  345,  chap,  xi.,  etc. 
Bull  - roarer  too  sacred  for  women  to  see  in  Muralug  Island,  Torres 
Straits  ( Expedition  Torres  Straits,  iv.  276  ; v.  217). 

2 Cf.  Spencer  and  Gillen,  Native  Tribes  of  Central  Australia.  Sound 
supposed  by  women  and  children  to  be  the  voice  of  the  great  spirit  assisting 
at  the  boy’s  initiation. 

Also  Howitt,  pp.  594-5  ; Andrew  Lang  on  " the  Bull-roarer  " in  Custom 
and  Myth  ; Haddon,  Study  of  Man,  p.  309. 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


213 


than  all  the  women  and  uninitiated  hurry  to  the  bush,  and 
remain  in  hiding  until  the  ceremony  is  concluded  and  the 
trumpets  have  been  returned  to  their  tabernacle.  W’hat 
the  ceremony  may  be  is  held  a profound  secret,  and  the 
punishment  for  infringement  is  death.1  As  a rule  two  of 
these  sacred  trumpets  are  used,  and  they  are  tuned  to  the 
same  pitch,  though  differing  in  their  tone  according  to  their 
length.  They  are  only  used  north  of  the  Japura;  south  of 
that  river  the  tribes  have  no  Jurupari  music  and  only  know 
them  as  employed  ceremonially  by  their  neighbours  in  con- 
nection with  initiation  secrets  to  frighten  their  women. 

The  Tukana  when  dancing  use  a trumpet  alternately 
with  their  rattles  ; and  the  Indians  north  of  the  Japura 
have  regular  castanets,  made  of  blocks  of  hard  wood,  which 
are  manipulated  with  one  hand,  much  in  the  manner  that 
the  nigger  - minstrel  plays  the  “bones.”  All  the  tribes 
make  rattles  of  small  gourds  by  the  simple  method  of  partly 
filling  the  calabash  with  dried  seeds,  or  fruit  stones,  and 
inserting  a wooden  handle  so  that  they  can  be  shaken  in 
time  to  the  dance.  Some  of  these  are  of  the  roughest,  the 
stick  of  the  handle  quite  untrimmed ; others  are  more 
finely  finished,  and  the  polished  black  surface  of  the  gourd 
may  be  ornamented  with  designs  in  colour,  or  incised 
patterns.  But  these  are  by  no  means  the  only  rattles  used 
at  a dance.  The  Indians  have  them  of  many  kinds  and 
descriptions.  The  smaller  are  worn  as  armlets,  wristlets, 
leglets,  and  anklets.  These  are  made  of  nuts,  strung  with 
coloured  beads  on  palm  fibre,  and  very  carefully  fashioned. 
The  leg  rattles  are  frequently  handsome  ornaments,  the 
rich  brown  of  the  glossy  nutshell  making  a splendid  contrast 
with  the  blue  or  red  of  the  Brummagem  beads.  The  finest 
are  made  from  a nut  not  unlike  the  Brazil  nut  of  commerce 
in  shape,  but  less  angular.  That  shown  in  Plate  XLIII.  has 
natural  groovings  and  marks  which  give  the  polished  sections 
the  appearance  of  being  engraved.  A section  of  the  shell 
is  cut  off,  thoroughly  cleaned  and  polished,  then  attached 
by  a short  string  of  beads  to  the  main  leg-  or  arm-band 

1 See  Koch-Griinberg ; Humbolt,  ii.  363  ; Nery,  p.  261 ; Spruce,  ii.  416  ; 
Wallace,  pp.  348-9. 


214 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


from  which  these  nut  sections  hang  bell-like.  The  arm 
rattles  are  made  of  smaller  nuts,  some  are  not  unlike  an 
oval  hazelnut,  flat  on  one  side,  cut  in  half  and  highly  polished. 
The  nut  is,  roughly  speaking,  some  three-quarters  of  an  inch 
across  and  long.  These  also  are  hung  on  threads  of  beads 
pendant  a quarter  of  an  inch  apart  from  the  connecting 
beaded  string.  Leg  rattles  are  made  of  larger  nuts,  and  one 
variety  is  made  in  the  form  of  a bunch,  not  a band  or  chain. 
The  beads  used  for  these  are  blue  and  red  in  colour,  and 
the  bunch  of  nuts  on  their  beaded  strings  is  fastened  with 
plaited  palm-fibre  beneath  the  knee.  The  whole  effect  is 
most  distinctly  ornamental.  The  jangle  of  two  or  three  of 
these  nutshell  bells  is  not  unpleasant : there  is  almost  a 
tinkle  in  their  clatter,  but  the  volume  of  sound  obtainable 
from  a number  of  them  is  remarkable,  and  so  is  the 
precision  with  which  they  accentuate  the  rhythm  of 
movement. 

The  Indians  have  no  cymbals,  gongs,  or  bells  ; but  the 
drum  is  an  important  factor  not  only  in  native  music,  but 
in  native  life.  The  drum  is  the  telegraph  of  the  Amazons. 
In  fact,  the  most  remarkable  of  all  the  native  instruments 
is  the  manguare  or  signal  drum.  Although  the  primary 
use  of  this  drum  is  to  signal,  it  is  utilised  on  great  occasions 
as  an  addition  to  the  aboriginal  orchestra.  To  make  this 
important  adjunct  of  the  maloka  two  blocks  of  hard  wood 
are  chosen,  some  six  feet  in  length,  and  about  twenty- 
four  inches  in  diameter.  These  blocks  are  very  carefully 
hollowed  out  by  means  of  heated  stones  that  are  introduced 
through  a narrow  longitudinal  slit,  and  char  the  interior. 
Instead  of  endeavouring,  however,  as  would  be  the  case 
with  an  ordinary  drum,  to  contrive  as  nearly  perfect  a 
cylinder  as  possible,  the  object  of  the  signal-drum  maker 
is  to  obtain  a husk  of  varying  thicknesses,  so  as  to  secure 
differences  in  note.  Accordingly,  with  his  rude  implements, 
hot  stones,  capybara-tooth  borer,  and  stone  axe,  he  fashions 
the  interior  of  the  drum  in  such  a manner  that  the  outer 
shell,  the  sounding-board,  varies  in  thickness  from  half  an 
inch  to  four  inches.  Two  blocks  are  used  ; the  smaller  is 
called  the  male,  and  the  larger  the  female.  The  ends  are 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


215 


simply  the  wood  of  the  tree  which  is  not  removed,  all  the 
hollowing  being  accomplished  by  means  of  the  grooved  slit. 
When  finished  these  are  suspended  by  withes  at  an  oblique 
angle,  one  end  much  higher  than  the  other — say  six  feet 
and  three  feet  respectively  from  the  ground.  They  hang 
from  the  rafters  of  the  maloka,  or  from  an  upright  frame, 
and  present  the  appearance  of  two  barrels  surmounted  by 
a narrow  slit.1 


The  musician  takes  his  stand  between  these  drums  and, 
with  a wooden  mallet  headed  with  a knob  of  rubber,  beats  out 
his  message  or  his  tune.  Altogether  he  has  a range  of  four 
notes — two  low  ones  on  the  female  manguare,  and  two  high 
ones  on  the  male.  On  these  he  rings  the  changes  with  great 
rapidity,  and  produces  a sound  which,  though  not  startlingly 
loud,  has  such  penetrating  qualities  that  it  can  be  heard 
twenty  miles  away.  He  beats  very  quickly  in  short  and 
long  strokes,  not  unlike  the  Morse  Code.  By  means  of  the 
manguare  a skilled  signaller  can  carry  on  a conversation  as 
accurately  as  a telegraph  operator  at  St.  Martin’s-le-Grand, 
or  a soldier  with  a heliograph — but  how  he  does  it  is  another 
secret  of  the  Amazonian  bush.  When  used  for  its  proper 

1 There  are  two  in  the  British  Museum  on  the  top  shelf  in  the  South 
American  room. 


2l6 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


purpose  as  signal  drum,  the  Boro  and  the  Okaina  can  carry 
on  conversations  upon  almost  any  subject  within  their  ken. 
Other  tribes  are  only  able  to  distinguish  between  a warning 
of  danger  and  an  invitation  to  a dance.  Brown  could  use 
the  drum  for  small  matters — he  could  hurry  the  bearers 
out  of  the  bush  for  example.  He  said  there  was  no  code, 
but  that  the  signaller  tried  to  represent  the  sound  of  words 
with  the  drum,  and  Indians  invariably  told  me  that  they 
made  the  words  with  the  drum.  However,  with  a language 
dependent  on  inflection,  as  theirs  unquestionably  is,  there 
must  be  a code  of  some  description. 

india-rubber,  which  has  added  a new  and  awful  terror 
to  the  life  of  the  forest  Indian,  is  only  employed  by  these 
tribes  to  make  the  drum  mallet,  used  with  the  manguare, 
and  the  latex  for  depilatory  purposes.  The  Witoto  call  the 
mallet  ouaki,  the  drum  is  hugwe. 

These  great  signal  drums  have  designs  worked  upon 
them  in  which  the  organs  associated  with  the  presumed  sex 
of  the  instrument  are  prominent ; and,  after  the  manner  of 
the  natives,  both  instruments  are  invariably  distinguished 
internally  with  the  proper  sexual  characters,  the  female 
drum  having  two  breasts  pendant  inside. 

Even  in  the  construction  of  a small  playing  drum  much 
time  and  ingenuity  are  expended.  First  an  aeta  palm 1 
is  selected,  cut  down,  and  a section  of  the  trunk  laboriously 
hacked  off.  This  section  in  turn  is  carefully  hollowed, 
until  only  a thin  shell  remains.  Some  tribes  use  a section 
of  bamboo  in  place  of  the  hollowed  palm,  but  these  never 
secure  so  fine  an  instrument  or  so  fine  a note  as  the  palm 
trunk  makes.  Over  the  two  ends  of  the  cylinder  dried 
monkey  skin  is  tightly  stretched — preferably  that  of  the 
howler  monkey,  as  it  is  popularly  supposed  to  produce  a 
louder  and  more  rolling  sound.  Some  tribes  then  fasten 
across  one  end  of  this  drum  a very  tight  cord,  into  the 
centre  of  which  has  been  tied  a fine  sliver  of  wood.  By 
this  means  two  notes  are  obtained — the  open  note  where 
nothing  interferes  with  the  vibrations  of  the  drumhead, 
and  the  closed  note  where  the  vibrations  of  the  splinter 
1 Mamitia  flexuosa. 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


217 


intersect  those  of  the  skin.  A very  inferior  instrument  is 
made  with  agouti  skin  over  a bamboo  cylinder.  The  drums 
made  on  the  Napo  River  look  very  much  like  an  English 
child’s  toy  drum,  rather  high  and  narrow,  and,  of  course, 
made  entirely  without  metal.  The  sides  bulge  slightly, 
and  have  crossed  threads  of  fibre  string.  The  vellum  of  the 
drumhead  is  kept  in  its  place  tautly  by  a close-fitting  ring. 
These  drums  are  usually  decorated,  and  are  objects  of  barter 
among  many  of  the  tribes.  They  are  played  with  the 
fingers  only,  not  with  drumsticks  or  mallet. 


CHAPTER  XVII 


The  Indians’  magico-religious  system — The  Good  Spirit  and  the  Bad 
Spirit — Names  of  deities — Character  of  Good  Spirit — His  visit  to 
earth — Question  of  missionary  influence — Lesser  subordinate  spirits — 
Child-lifting — No  prayer  or  supplication — Classification  of  spirits — 
Immortality  of  the  soul — Land  of  the  After-Life — Ghosts  and  name 
tabu — Temporary  disembodied  spirits — Extramundane  spirits — Spirits 
of  particularised  evils — Spirits  of  inanimate  objects — The  jaguar  and 
anaconda  magic  beasts — Tiger  folk — Fear  of  unknown — Suspicions 
about  camera — Venerated  objects — Charms — Magic  against  magic — 
Omens. 


Some  travellers  and  writers  have  asserted  that  the  Indian 
has  no  religion.  In  the  vulgarly-accepted  meaning  of  the 
word  he  may  have  none.  There  is  great  variation  among 
the  groups,  the  tribes  even — I venture  to  say — among  the 
individuals.  So  far  as  they  believe  in  anything  they  believe 
in  the  existence  of  supreme  good  and  bad  spirits  ; but  their 
beliefs  are  always  indefinite,  only  half  understood  even  by 
themselves.  To  a certain  extent  it  is  open  to  the  medicine- 
man, the  chief  priest  of  their  magico-religious  system,  to 
vary,  or  even  to  disregard  any  current  belief.  Among 
individuals  are  to  be  found  sceptics  of  every  grade.  On 
the  whole  their  religion  is  a theism,  inasmuch  as  their 
God  has  a vague,  personal,  anthropomorphic  existence. 
His  habitat  is  above  the  skies,  the  blue  dome  of  heaven, 
which  they  look  upon  as  the  roof  of  the  world  that 
descends  on  all  sides  in  contact  with  the  earth.  Yet  again 
it  is  a pantheism,  this  God  being  represented  in  all  beneficent 
nature  ; for  every  good  thing  is  imbued  with  his  spirit,  or 
with  individual  spirits  subject  to  him. 

In  essence  the  idea  of  God  is  not  that  of  a Supreme 
Being,  and  not  entirely  that  of  a Creator,  but  rather  that  of 
a Superior  Being,  possessed  by  an  indulgent  tolerance  for 
all  mankind.  But  he  suggests  only  the  negative  idea.  He 

218 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


219 


is  a spirit  of  benevolent  passivity.  He  is  good  for  no  other 
reason  than  that  he  is  not  evil.  There  is  no  particularised 
sanctity  in  his  name,  no  adoration  of  his  nebulous  person- 
ality, only  an  unquestioning  acquiescence  in  his  benignity. 
True,  he  is  held  in  high  esteem,  but  that  is  because  he  per- 
meates all  in  nature  that  is  not  inimical,  and  thus  demon- 
strates his  kindly  disposition.  If  the  harvest  fails  it  is  due 
to  the  malevolence  of  their  Diabolus,  or  some  of  his  agents, 
yet  if  it  be  a good  one  the  credit  is  due  not  to  the  Good 
Spirit,  but  rather  to  the  medicine-man  for  having  with  his 
magic  frustrated  the  machinations  of  the  Bad  Spirit. 

This  Devil,  or  Bad  Spirit,  is  affirmative  in  character,  and 
is  always  active.  He  must  not  be  invoked,  but  he  is  to  be 
prevented  by  charms  and  magic  from  wreaking  his  vengeance 
on  mankind,  and  must  be  placated  at  all  costs  as  the  supreme 
author  of  sickness  and  misfortunes,  and  the  controlling 
power  of  malevolent  nature. 

Both  the  Good  and  the  Bad  Spirit  are  attended  by  lesser 
spirits  with  similar  characteristics.  So  far  as  I could 
ascertain,  there  is  no  suggestion  that  any  of  these  super- 
natural beings  ever  lived  in  this  world,  though  they  influence 
it  so  entirely,  and  can  visit  it  at  will. 

The  Good  Spirit  may  be  more  potent,  but  he  is  certainly 
more  remote  than  the  Bad  Spirit — too  remote  for  ordinary 
people  to  be  brought  into  any  degree  of  contact  with  him 
whatsoever.  His  influence,  his  benefits,  are,  as  he  is,  passive. 
The  Bad  Spirit,  on  the  contrary,  is  of  a ceaseless  energy. 
His  active  influence  is  invariably  present.  He  is  always 
exerting  his  power  in  some  definite,  some  concrete  form. 
Poison,  for  example,  is  an  active  agent.  The  devil  in  it 
works  vigorously  to  the  undoing  of  his  victim,  definitely 
exercises  a deleterious  effect  upon  his  enemy,  man.  So,  too, 
the  rocks  that  bar  the  way  upstream  are  more  active  than 
passive.  They  repel,  they  may  defeat  the  traveller,  and, 
therefore,  are  to  be  regarded  also  as  the  active  agents  of  a 
hostile  power. 

It  is  noteworthy  in  this  connection  that  the  Bad  Spirit 
may  be  materialised  sufficiently  to  be  able  to  carry  a child 
bodily  away,  or  to  steal  a woman,  should  she  stray  out  into 


220 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


the  forest  by  herself.1  For  this  reason  usually  no  woman  will 
go  alone  into  the  bush,  she  will  take  a companion  with  her, 
especially  at  night,  for  the  demon  is  popularly  supposed  to  be 
unable  to  tackle  more  than  one  at  a time,  even  if  the  second 
be  only  a young  child.2  Women  who  run  away  from  their 
husbands  are  consequently  said  by  them  to  have  been  taken 
by  the  devil.  This  is  a favourite  theory,  as  the  man  may 
thereby  avoid  the  censure  or  hostility  of  the  tribe.  The 
men  also  do  not  care  to  be  far  in  the  bush  alone,  and  after 
dark  nothing  will  induce  an  Indian  voluntarily  to  embark 
on  the  risk  of  adventuring  into  the  forest  by  himself. 

One  of  the  first  difficulties  met  with  when  dealing  in 
detail  with  the  religion  of  these  peoples  is  their  refusal  to 
use  the  true  name  of  any  spirit  or  deity.  This  has  root  in 
the  same  reason  that  ordains  they  shall  never  disclose  their 
own  names,  nor  voluntarily  except  on  rare  occasions,  that 
is  without  questioning,  the  name  of  their  tribe. 

In  the  Boro  language  we  have  the  word  Neva  as  an 
equivalent  for  God,  the  good  or  sympathetic  deity,  and  the 
word  Navena  for  the  Devil,  the  great  evil  or  antipathetic 
spirit,  in  fact  the  negative  of  all  represented  by  Neva.  But 
inasmuch  as  neva  stands  also  for  the  sun,  the  dawn,  and  the 
morning,  while  navena  is  used  for  any  spirit  however  humble 
— whether  the  soul-part  of  a thing,  animate  or  inanimate, 
or  the  ghost  or  disembodied  soul  of  the  dead — we  have  a 
right  to  postulate  that  such  are  not  the  true,  or  supposed 
self-appellated  names  of  these  deities,  but  those  that  may  be 
used  without  offence,  and  therefore  free  of  the  consequent 
evils  that  the  mention  of  the  true  name  would  entail  on 
the  users. 

To  give  another  example : In  Witoto  Usiyamoi  has  the 
same  meaning  as  God  in  ordinary  parlance  ; Taife  is  the 
Devil,  whereas  Taifeno  is  any  bad  spirit  whatever.  But, 
again,  the  Taife,  the  dread  of  these  people,  the  all-pervading 
evil  genius,  is  named  Apuehana,  a word  never  pronounced 
above  a whisper.  Here  then  we  may  have  reached  a true 
secret  name. 

1 Cf.  Spencer  and  Gillen,  op.  cit.  p.  517. 

2 The  one  exception  being  where  parturition  is  imminent,  and  no  help- 
mate is  available. 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


221 


The  Boro  Neva  and  the  Witoto  TJsiyamoi  are  the  Tupano 
of  the  Tupi-Guarani  tribes  of  the  east  and  the  Negro  River. 
This  we  find  is  the  Apunchi-Y ay  a of  the  Guichua  of  the 
west,  the  Cachimana  of  the  Orinoco.  Navena  and  Taife  or 
Apuehana  are  the  same  as  the  Jurupari  of  the  north,  the 
lolokiamo  of  the  Orinoco,  and  the  Locazy  of  the  Ticuna.1 

To  return  to  the  personal  characteristics  of  the  two  reg- 
nant powers,  the  Good  and  the  Bad  Spirit,  the  former, 
though  vague,  is  yet  an  omnipotent  tempestipresent  deity, 
and,  although  passive,  something  more  than  sympathetic 
and  benevolent.  He  made  the  world,  or  it  might  be  more 
correct  to  put  it  that  he  permitted  it  to  be  created,  for  his 
amusement  and  pleasure.  When  not  otherwise  engaged  in 
his  mysterious  happy  hunting-grounds  he  keeps  a watch 
over  earth  and  over  mankind.  But  so  great  is  he  that  no 
prayer  or  invocation  is  offered  to  him,  nor,  were  it  offered, 
could  he  be  thereby  influenced.2  It  is  because  he  is  so  big 
a Chief  that  his  attitude  is  entirely  passive.  Once  Neva  had 
forgotten  the  puny  human  factor,  so  he  took  the  guise  of  a 
man  and  came  to  earth.  The  open  spaces — the  natural 
savannahs  or  geological  outcrops — are  tvhere  he  spoke  to 
the  Indians,  and  it  is  a sign  of  his  speaking  and  of  his  erst- 
while presence  that  these  are  now  open  to  the  sun  and  the 
sky.  But  one  Indian  vexed  Neva,  the  Good  Spirit,  and 
he  was  wrath  with  all  men,  so  he  went  again  to  sit  on  the 
roof  of  the  world.  But  before  he  departed  he  whispered 
into  the  ears  of  all  the  tigers  that  they  were  to  kill  the 
Indians  and  their  children,  and  that  is  why  the  tigers  to-day 
are  wicked  and  sometimes  are  the  habitations  of  the  most 
evil  spirits.  Before  this  time  the  tigers  were  good  to  men, 
and  they  hunted  together  like  brothers  ; they  lived  together 
in  the  houses  ; they  ate  and  drank  and  licked  tobacco  in 
amity  round  the  fire.3 

1 See  Appendix. 

2 Compare  with  identity  of  the  white  culture-hero  of  the  higher  South 
American  cultures,  Quetzalcoatl  of  the  Nahua,  Uiracocha  of  Peru,  Tsuma 
of  Venezuela.  Note  this  being  came  from  the  East.  See  Joyce,  p.  12. 
He  is  in  fact  the  Atahocan  of  the  Algonquin  “ remote  from  the  world,  to 
whom  no  worship  was  paid  ” (Ratzel,  ii.  144). 

3 According  to  the  Malays’  anthropomorphic  ideas  concerning  the 


222 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


Such,  so  far  as  I could  gather,  is  the  Indian’s  belief. 
The  tale  was  told  me  by  a Boro,  but  the  belief  is  approxi- 
mately the  same  with  all  these  tribes.  On  the  occasion  of 
hearing  this  story  of  the  visit  of  the  Good  Spirit  to  earth  I 
related,  to  the  best  of  my  ability,  the  Christian  story. 
The  result  may  be  of  value  in  determining  the  possession  of 
logic  by  the  Indian.  After  they  had  listened  to  my  story 
the  tribesmen  held  a tobacco  palavar,  which  lasted  some  six 
hours.  Then  the  chief — the  medicine-man  was  surly  and 
remote — appeared,  and  this  was  the  burden  of  his  wisdom. 
His  own  people  were  greater  than  the  people  from  the  clouds 
— the  white  people — for  the  Good  Spirit,  Neva  himself, 
came  to  the  Indians,  whereas  only  the  Young  Chief  visited 
the  clouds.  And  the  Indians  were  better  than  the  white 
people,  for  the  white  people  killed  the  Young  Chief,  but  the 
Indians  listened  to  Neva,  and  only  one  among  them  vexed 
him. 

I had  heard  the  story  of  the  Good  Spirit’s  manifesta- 
tion before,  but  doubted  its  genuineness,  until  one  day 
when  I inquired  of  a Boro  what  a savannah  was  he 
answered  me  that  it  was  where  Neva  spoke  to  the 
Indians.  When  I questioned  him  further  he  told  me  the 
above.  It  is  impossible  to  say  how  far  this  story  may  be 
a genuine  folk  - tale,  how  far  it  is  a perverted  version  of 
the  Biblical  account.  Tales  travel  far.  They  are  adopted 
from  one  people  to  another,  with  resultant  variations.  We 
know  that  the  Jesuits  penetrated  to  the  Rio  Negro  as  early 
as  1668-69.  There  have  been  missionaries  of  that  Society 
on  the  Napo.  But  I met  with  no  traces  of  them  on  the 
upper  waters,  nor  have  any  of  these  peoples  anything  in  the 
least  resembling  the  Christian  symbol  in  their  designs.  One 
might  expect  to  find  so  simple  a figure  as  a cross  reproduced 
in  native  art  if  once  known,  but  it  certainly  is  not.  On  the 
face  of  it  we  may  here  be  dealing  with  a variant  that  has 

tiger,  “the  tiger-folk  . . . have  a town  of  their  own,  where  they  live  in 
houses,  and  act  in  every  respect  like  human  beings”  (Skeat,  Malay  Magic, 
p.  157).  In  Perak  tigers  with  human  souls  live  in  similar  villages  (Sir  W.  E. 
Maxwell,  J.R.A.S.,  No.  vii.  p.  22).  The  natives  of  Korinchi  in  Sumatra 
are  credited  with  the  power  to  assume  tiger  form  at  will  (Sir  H.  Clifford, 
In  Court  of  Kanipong,  pp.  65-6). 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


223 


passed  from  tribe  to  tribe,  that  has  trickled  through  centuries, 
to  reappear  now  as  a tribal  tradition  among  peoples  who 
have  never  been  in  any  direct  contact  with  Christian  in- 
fluences.1 

As  regards  the  rule  of  these  supreme  spirits  over  the 
lesser  spirits  of  good  and  evil  they  stand  in  the  relation  of 
great  chief.  The  good  spirits  are  the  spirits  of  trees  that 
bear  edible  fruits,  of  the  trees  from  which  arrows  are  made, 
of  the  Coca  erythroxylon,  of  the  astringent  properties  of 
various  herbs,  of  the  medicine-man’s  magic  stones  that  may 
be  used  as  a prophylactic.  These  are  not  only  the  subjects 
of  the  Good  Spirit,  they  were  made  by  him.  He  made  all 
the  good  things  of  the  forest  ; and  he  also  made  the  rivers 
and  the  skies.  The  Bad  Spirit  placed  the  rocks  in  the  rivers, 
the  poison  in  the  mandiocca  and  in  all  noxious  growths  of 
the  bush.  He  made  the  liana  to  trip  the  unwary  walker, 
in  short  all  things  hurtful.  These  malevolent  elements  are 
the  bad  spirits  which,  as  the  name  in  Witoto  appears  to 
imply — the  Taifeno, — are  all  subject  to  the  Taife.  As  the 
Good  Spirit  lives  above  the  world  so  the  Bad  Spirit  inhabits 
the  nether  regions.  The  lesser  spirits  of  evil  go  to  him  by 
way  of  the  earth  holes,2  for  these  are  the  passages  to  his 
kingdom.  The  visit  of  the  Good  Spirit  to  earth  as  a corporate 
being  was  a unique  event  never  repeated,  but  the  Bad  Spirit 
wanders  with  his  myrmidons  in  the  forest  every  night. 
Sometimes  he  takes  the  form  of  a tiger,  or  other  fierce 
animal  ; sometimes,  as  alternative  to  the  tiger  - lifting 
theory,  he  resembles  a man  who  can  disappear  at  will.  He 
imitates  the  call  of  the  hunter  who  has  found  game,  or  the 
call  of  an  animal  to  be  hunted.  He  entices  his  victim  by  these 
and  similar  contrivances  to  venture  deeper  and  deeper  into 
the  bush,  until  the  wretched  wanderer  is  utterly  lost.  Accord- 

1 When  Markham  says  of  the  Ticuna  that  “ they  fear  the  evil  spirit, 
and  believe  of  the  good  one  that,  after  death,  he  appears  to  eat  fruit  with 
the  departed  and  takes  them  to  his  home,  this  would  seem  to  be  a distinct 
survival  of  missionary  teaching,  for  these  Indians  were  preached  to  between 
1683  and  1728.”  Christian  influence  is  also  shown  in  their  naming  cere- 
monies (Markham,  p.  200). 

2 These  holes  in  the  heavy  mould  of  the  forest  are  caused  by  subsidences. 
The  Indians  do  not  understand  how  they  came  to  be,  and  explain  the  fact 
by  asserting  they  are  the  work  of  devils. 


224 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


ing  to  tribal  belief  he  is  then  destroyed,  or  spirited  bodily 
away.  As  has  been  said,  the  Bad  Spirit  never  appears  to 
more  than  one  at  a time,  and  that  one  is  usually  spirited  away, 
so  can  give  no  account  of  the  appearance,  but  as  confirma- 
tion of  his  real  presence  an  Indian  will  sometimes  whisper 
the  evil  name  as  he  points  out  the  track  of  an  abnormal- 
sized tapir,  which  is  curiously  reminiscent  to  the  European 
of  the  cloven  hoof  of  his  own  Devil. 

The  child  - lifting  story  is  a favourite  one,  and  some 
amount  of  corroborative  evidence  is  forthcoming,  for  in  the 
awful  loneliness  of  the  bush  a child  naturally  would  become 
half  demented  with  fear  and  apprehension,  and  if  ever 
found  again  would  be  only  too  honestly  willing  to  believe 
he  had  been  in  the  very  real  clutches  of  a very  real  devil. 
The  juvenile  adventurer,  answering  in  this  way  to  leading 
questions,  gives  to  these  simple  people  all  the  proof  they 
look  for,  and  adds  an  immediate  and  local  authenticity  to 
the  accepted  myth. 

As  there  is  no  prayer  to  the  Good  Spirit,  so  there  is  no 
supplication  to  the  Bad.  The  medicine-man,  as  I have  said, 
invokes  neither  ; he  appeals  to  neither  ; but  he  attempts  by 
magic  to  force  the  Bad  Spirit  into  quiescence,  to  discover 
some  more  potent  influence  that  shall  make  him  powerless 
to  hurt,  for  unless  coerced  he  is  all-powerful. 

Indefinite  as  these  beliefs  in  a deity,  good  or  evil,  may  be, 
faith  as  to  the  after-life  of  the  soul  is  possibly  still  vaguer. 
Yet  faith  there  certainly  is,  for  the  existence  of  the  spirits  of 
the  dead  is  an  accepted  fact,  acknowledged  in  the  Indian 
ritual  of  burial. 

Of  spirits  there  are  four  kinds  : 

Permanent  disembodied  spirits,  or  the  souls  of  the  dead, 
their  ghosts. 

Temporarily  disembodied  spirits,  that  is  to  say  the  souls 
of  living  men,  with  power  to  send  them  forth  out  of  their 
material  bodies. 

Extra-mundane  spirits,  or  those  from  other  worlds. 

Spirits  of,  or  in,  all  natural  objects,  animate  and  in- 
animate. 

Any  of  these  four  classes  of  spirits  are  good  or  bad, 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS  225 

according  as  they  are  benevolently  or  malevolently  in- 
clined. 

These  Indians  all  believe  in  the  temporary  transmission 
of  the  disembodied  soul  into  the  form  of  an  animal,  bird, 
or  reptile,  not  a regular  and  enforced  series  of  such  trans- 
missions. This  temporary  transmission  is  for  the  pursuance 
of  a certain  aim,  perhaps  for  some  indefinite  length  of 
time.  It  appears  that  the  spirit  has  the  power  of  trans- 
migration into  other  animal  bodies,  or  back  again  to  its 
extra-mundane  form  at  will.  Whether  the  animal  is  human, 
whether,  when  so  invaded,  it  incorporates  two  spirits  and 
becomes  dual-souled,  the  Indian  does  not  relate. 

Man’s  soul  in  Indian  belief  is  immortal,  that  is  to  say  it 
exists  as  long  as  it  is  felt  to  exist,  whilst  it  continues  to 
appear  in  the  dreams,  in  the  thoughts  of  the  survivors — 
for  so  long,  in  fact,  as  it  is  remembered.  Surely  this  is 
immortality.  A thing  forgotten  has  never  existed  ; and, 
per  contra,  the  soul  of  a remembered  being  lives  for  ever. 
The  disembodied  spirit  or  ghost  lingers  near  the  body  after 
death,  in  the  woods  near  the  house,  or  may  even  lodge  in 
the  house  itself.  And  then  indefinitely,  indeterminately, 
after  the  body  is  buried  the  soul  wanders  farther  afield,  and 
goes  at  length  to  the  happy  grounds  of  the  Good  Spirit. 
Among  some  tribes  this  paradise  is  located  above  the  skies, 
among  others  it  is  away  up  some  river,  in  the  far  and  mythical 
distance.  The  latter  heaven  is  situated,  as  has  already 
been  mentioned,  upstream,  and  that,  in  this  country  where 
the  trend  of  the  land  is  north-west  and  south-east,  is  also 
approximately  towards  the  setting  sun.1 

This  land  of  the  After-Life  is  a diminutive  replica  of  the 
ordinary  world,  but  with  evil  things  eliminated  and  joyful 
things  emphasised.  All  is  on  a lower  scale,  stunted  forests 
and  pigmy  game.  This  idea  of  a world  in  miniature  approxi- 
mates to  the  Malay  conception  of  a spirit,  the  “ diminutive 
but  exact  counterpart  of  its  own  embodiment,”  appertaining 
to  all  animal,  vegetable,  and  mineral  bodies.2  The  Indian 

1 Among  the  Kuretu  the  soul  is  believed  to  hover  near  the  body  for 
one  day  after  death,  and  then  to  flit  away,  and  finally  to  retire  to  a beautiful 
house  at  the  source  of  a mysterious  river. 

2 Skeat,  Malay  Magic,  p.  52. 


9 


226 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


miniature  world  would  thus  be,  it  seems,  constructed  of  the 
spirits  of  the  material  world.  Colour  is  given  to  this  theory 
by  the  fact  that  individual  possessions  are  buried  with  the 
dead,  and  the  Kuretu  confess  that  this  is  done  to  prevent  the 
return  of  the  soul  in  search  of  them.  Were  such  properties 
to  pass  into  the  possession  of  survivors  the  soul  part  of 
each  object,  needed  to  represent  it  in  the  spiritual  world, 
would  be  detained  in  the  material  world.  Burial  sets  it  at 
liberty,  presumably,  to  accompany  the  soul  part  of  its 
owner,  to  take  in  the  miniature  world  of  the  After-Life  a 
position  corresponding  in  every  detail  to  that  which  has 
been  held  here  on  earth.  The  soul  is  pictured  as  the  body, 
in  miniature  also,  visible  or  invisible  at  will,  for  these 
people,  like  the  majority  of  many  of  a higher  culture,  are 
unable  to  imagine  the  soul  except  in  some  material  guise.1 
Life  in  this  enigmatic  sphere  has  everything  most  prized  in 
this  world.  Hunting  is  fruitful  always  ; women  are  beauti- 
ful and  amenable,  and  the  men  are  all  the  old  familiar 
friends  of  earth.  The  means  of  attainment  to  this  desirable 
state  are  so  vague  as  to  be  unassignable.  Good  and  evil 
have  no  part  in  this  scheme  of  heavenly  philosophy.  Broken 
tabus,  crimes  against  tribal  jurisprudence,  apparently  bring 
only  temporary  evil  influences  into  play.  Their  punish- 
ment is  immediate  and  material.  The  happy  land  is  open 
to  all  the  tribe  with  whom  the  Good  Spirit  is  not  vexed. 
It  is  closed  to  all  their  enemies. 

These  lost  souls,  the  spirits  of  those  divinely  damned, 
must  still  frequent  the  earthly  forests,  or  perhaps  ally  them- 
selves with  the  spirits  of  evil  and  wander  down  the  holes 
in  the  earth  to  join  the  legions  of  the  nether  world. 

I have  heard,  but  not  very  definitely,  of  the  Zaparo 
belief  that  the  good  and  brave  souls  will  pass  into  birds  of 
beautiful  plumage  and  feed  on  the  most  delicate  fruits, 
while  the  bad  and  cowardly  are  condemned  to  a future 
existence  in  the  guise  of  objectionable  reptiles.2 

This  belief  in,  at  least,  a partial  presence  of  the  spirits  of 
the  dead  has  possibly  a bearing  on  the  Indian  dislike,  to  use 

1 im  Thurn,  p.  343.  Cf.  also  Skeat,  Pagan  Malay,  p.  47. 

2 See  Simson,  p.  175  ; Orton,  p.  170. 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


227 


no  stronger  term,  of  mentioning  his  proper  name.  In  the 
case  of  some  tribes,  as  has  been  noted,  the  name  of  a dead 
man  is  given  as  a special  honour  to  his  greatest  friend  among 
the  survivors.  With  other  tribes  names  of  the  living  may, 
and  probably  have  once  been  those  of  persons  now  dead. 
To  mention  such  a name  aloud  might  conceivably  be  to 
attract  the  attention  of  the  defunct  erstwhile  owner.1 
Therefore  the  name  is  only  whispered,  lest  the  spirit  hearing 
it  might  come  and  bother  the  speaker  or  the  individual 
named.2  There  is,  of  course,  the  further  reason  that  the 
knowledge  of  a man’s  name  gives  an  enemy  power  to 
work  him  magical  evil.  But  that  is  a point  already  dealt 
with,  except  in  so  far  as  it  argues  some  identity  of  the  name 
with  the  essential  ego. 

Not  only  do  the  Indians  hold  that  a man’s  soul  leaves 
his  body  at  death,  but,  further,  they  believe  that  it  may  do 
so  during  life  for  a limited  period.  We  have  examples  in 
sleep,  they  argue,  when  the  spirit  is  out  of  the  body  and 
wanders  about ; for  in  dreams,  they  say,  the  soul  passes 
through  the  mouth  and  has  adventures  in  the  outer  world.3 
Dreams  are,  in  fact,  a portion  of  the  man’s  real  life.  His 
spirit  has  ventured  forth  and  actually  gone  through  the 
experience  his  fancy  paints.  They  realise,  therefore,  that 
individuality  is  not  in  the  body  itself,  but  in  the  spirit  that 
inhabits  the  body.  So  if  a man  dreams  he  will  not  hesitate 
to  declare  that  he  has  done  what  he  dreamed  he  was  doing. 

This  is  an  example  of  involuntary  disembodiment, 
differing  only  from  actual  death  in  that  it  is  of  temporary 

1 Cf.  Spencer  and  Gillen,  p.  498. 

2 This  is  so  frequently  the  case  among  primitive  peoples  as  hardly  to 
need  amplifying.  It  is  very  general  among  the  Indian  races.  See  Andre, 
p.  16  ; im  Thurn,  pp.  158,  220. 

The  Algonquin  hold  that  the  mention  of  a man’s  name  offends  his 
personal  deity  (H.  R.  Schoolcraft,  Oneota,  pp.  331,  456  ; Indian  Tribes  of 
the  U.S.  ii.  65).  Australian  natives  only  mention  secret  names  in  a 
whisper  (Spencer  and  Gillen,  p.  139).  See  also  note  on  names  in  Chap.  XI. 

* This  belief  is  also  held  by  the  Dyaks.  “ Their  theory  is  that  during 
sleep  the  soul  can  hear,  see,  and  understand,  so  what  is  dreamt  is  really 
what  the  soul  sees.  When  any  one  dreams  of  a distant  land,  they  believe 
that  his  soul  has  paid  a flying  visit  to  that  land  ” (E.  H.  Gomes,  Seventeen 
Years  among  the  Sea  Dyaks  of  Borneo,  p.  161).  Howitt  writes  of  the  South 
Australian  native  : “ While  his  body  lies  motionless,  his  spirit  goes  out  of 
him  on  its  wanderings  ” (Howitt,  pp.  410-11).  See  also  Seligmann,  p.  191. 


228 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


duration.  The  soul  has  gone  quietly,  and  will  return.  But 
if  the  soul  make  a violent  effort  to  escape  that  apparently 
entails  fatal  consequences,  for  the  Indians  declare  when 
anybody  sneezes  it  is  the  soul  attempting  to  leave  the 
body  and  so  cause  death. 

Voluntary  disembodiment  is  believed  to  be  possible  in 
certain  favoured  cases.1  This  power  is  said  to  be  possessed 
by  the  medicine-man.  He  may  free  his  spirit  for  magical 
purposes,  to  fight  unseen  enemies  on  better  terms,  or  for 
the  pursuit  of  some  nefarious  end.  He  may  either  remain 
disembodied  and  invisible,  or  lurk  for  a time  in  the  form  of 
some  animal  or  object,  a tree,  a stone — where  stones  exist — 
or  even  in  the  wind,  the  rain,  or  the  river.  The  layman 
Indian,  though  perfectly  aware  that  he  cannot  of  his  own 
accord  and  free-will  loose  his  own  soul  from  its  fleshy  trap- 
pings to  adventure  in  some  foreign  sort,  is  quite  willing  to 
believe  that  other  more  fortunate  mortals  can  accomplish 
a feat  to  him  so  impossible.2  No  alternative  explanation 
offers  to  his  mind  to  elucidate  sundry  mysterious  happenings. 

Quite  distinct  from  these  disembodied  spirits  are  the 
extra  - mundane  spirits,  good  and  bad,  that  visit  this 
world  and  benefit  or  plague  its  inhabitants.  These  may 
invade  all  natural  objects,  and,  especially  those  evilly  dis- 
posed, will  work  unceasingly  as  agents  for  the  supreme 
powers  to  whom  they  owe  allegiance.  The  bad  spirits 
haunt  the  darkness,  they  lurk  in  the  recesses  of  the  woods, 
find  a habitation  in  deep  waters,  and  ride  to  destruction  on 
the  floods.  Danger  from  them  threatens  the  Indian  at 
every  turn.  He  can  only  be  protected  by  the  counter- 
magic of  his  medicine-man.  For  fear  of  possible  mischief 
at  their  malicious  hands  no  Indian  will  bathe  at  night 
unless  supported  by  the  presence  of  companions.  If  he 
lose  his  way  in  the  forest  it  is  due  to  their  machinations  ; 3 

1 im  Thurn,  pp.  329,  343. 

2 See  im  Thurn,  p.  349.  In  Australia  “ one  black  fellow  will  often  tell 
you  that  he  can  and  does  do  something  magical,  whilst  all  the  time  he  is 
perfectly  well  aware  that  he  cannot,  and  yet  firmly  believes  that  some 
other  man  can  really  do  it  ” (Spencer  and  Gillen,  p.  130). 

3 Spruce  relates  a custom  unknown  to  me  practised  by  some  tribes 
when  astray  in  the  bush.  The  Indian  when  lost  “ names  the  Curupira, 
and  . . . twists  a liana  into  a ring  . . . throws  it  behind  him  . . . 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


229 


and  all  that  goes  amiss  in  this  by  no  means  best-of-all- 
possible  worlds  is  at  least  in  part  engineered  by  them, 
either  at  the  suggestion  of  an  enemy,  or  from  their  own 
innate  badness  of  heart. 

Sickness  again  is  a concrete  entity.  The  Indian  knows 
not  the  microbe  of  science,  but  he  recognises  the  existence 
of  a definitely  hostile  and  active  enemy  in  the  presence  of 
disease.  It  is  a spirit  that  wanders  about,  and  at  the 
instigation  of  an  enemy  attacks  individuals  or  tribes.  The 
attack  is  an  actual  invasion.  Illness  is  due  to  the  presence 
in  the  flesh  of  the  sick  person  of  a foreign  and  inimical  body.* 1 

Before  a thunderstorm  the  Indian  believes  that  the  air 
is  full  of  spirits,  and  the  medicine-man  is  requisitioned 
literally  “ to  clear  the  atmosphere.”  Thunder  is  the  noise 
of  evil  spirits  making  a turmoil  and  fuss  ; whilst,  according 
to  Bates,  any  inexplicable  noises  are  made  by  another  of 
this  destructive  band,  Curupira,  the  wild  spirit  of  the  woods.2 
Thunder  probably  means  that  an  enemy  is  sending  sickness 
to  destroy  the  tribe.  Therefore  if  a man  is  ill  a flash  of 
lightning  is  quite  sufficient  to  kill  him  through  sheer  fright 
and  shock. 

These  extra-mundane  spirits  may  be  said  to  be  the 
spirits  of  particularised  evils,  just  as  the  Taife,  the  Navena, 
the  Jurupari,  is  the  supreme  spirit  of  all  evil.3 

With  the  final  division  of  the  spirit  world  is  enwrapped 
the  total  philosophy,  the  innermost  meanings,  in  fact  both 
the  whole  and  the  origin  of  the  Indian  magico-religious 
system.  As  men  have  souls — so  truly  felt  in  all — what  is 
more  natural  than  that  animals  who  move  and  breathe, 
who  live  and  die,  who  in  many  respects  are  more  powerful, 


follows  the  direction  in  which  it  has  fallen"  (Spruce,  ii.  437-8).  The 
Bororo  use  a bull-roarer  to  drive  the  bad  spirits  off  (W.  A.  Cook,  The 
Bororo  Indians  of  Matto  Grosso,  p.  55). 

1 The  Caribs  of  the  Pomeroon  river  actually  attempt  to  counter  the 
attack  of  epidemic  sickness  by  blocking  the  forest  tracks  “ to  stop  the 
passage  of  the  spirits  ” (im  Thurn,  p.  356).  In  Guiana  disease  is  regarded 
as  an  evil  spirit  that  prowls  around  (Brett,  Indian  Tribes  of  Guiana,  p.  225). 

2 Bates,  ii.  115. 

3 Jurupari  is  unknown  south  of  the  Japura.  I can  therefore  give  no 
particulars  or  description  from  personal  investigation  and  knowledge  of 
aught  concerning  this  all  powerful  demoniac  deity  of  the  northern  tribes. 


230 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


more  clever  than  men,  should  be  assigned  souls  also  by  the 
Indian’s  primitive  reasoning.  I say  soul  deliberately,  for 
Indian  metaphysicians  do  not  differentiate  between  soul 
and  spirit — they  are  one  and  indivisible,  the  miniature  self 
that  may  be  seen  in  the  pupil  of  a living  eye  but  has  vanished 
from  the  eye  of  the  dead.  The  question  of  souls  other  than 
human  is  to  the  Indian  too  obvious  to  need  elucidation  ; 
it  admits,  indeed,  of  no  argument.  There  is  a degree  of 
belief  in  a spirit,  “ a transcendental  x”  1 in  all  objects,  even 
those  that  are  inanimate.  What  lives  and  grows  must  have 
a spirit.  What  can  interfere  with,  or  affect  man  in  any  way 
must  possess  some  occult  influence,  some  mysterious  per- 
sonality, that  works  for  or  against  him,  especially  if  that 
object  be  in  any  degree  unfamiliar  or  abnormal  in  appear- 
ance. All  these  things,  vegetable  growths,  rocks,  are  to  the 
Indian  as  we  have  repeatedly  seen,  active  agents  in  the  scheme 
of  things,  and  as  such  must  also  possess  the  intangible 
ego,  the  spiritual  essence,  that  is  the  soul  of  all  earthly 
forms.  Evidence  as  to  animistic  beliefs  among  the  Indians 
is  universal  and  overwhelming.  A point  of  interest  to  the 
psychologist  comes  in  with  the  problem  whether  the  belief 
that  undoubtedly  exists  is  a belief  in  a duality  of  spirits  in 
one  envelop,  or  whether,  when  the  supernatural  spirit,  or 
the  disembodied  spirit  of  a man,  is  transmitted  into  extra- 
human forms,  it  being  the  stronger  can  oust  the  natural 
spirit  of  the  animal  or  object  which  is  entered,  and  if  so 
what  becomes  of  the  finally  evicted  spirit.  On  this  point  I 
have  unfortunately  no  information  to  adduce. 

While  these  beliefs  are  in  the  main  general  among  all  the 
language -groups  of  the  Issa- Japura  regions,  those  of  the 
Boro-speaking  tribes  are  the  most  intricate.  They  have 
more  definite  notions  of  the  spirit-world,  a greater  range  of 
theories  as  to  the  powers  and  extent  of  supernatural  pheno- 
mena. They  fear  the  local  devils  more,  take  greater  care 
to  appease  them  and  to  avoid  rousing  their  hostility.  This 
is  the  natural  result  of  the  increased  isolation  secured  by 
the  Boro  tribes.  They  have  been  influenced  less  by  the 

1 J.  D.  Pfleiderer,  Die  Genesis  des  Mythus  der  indogermanischen  Vdlker, 
p.  48. 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


231 


outer  world  than  the  Witoto,  for  example.  Both  Boro  and 
Andoke  tribes  invariably  keep  aloof  so  far  as  may  be  from 
any  stranger. 

Two  of  the  forest  denizens,  the  jaguar  and  the  anaconda, 
occupy  outstanding  positions  in  this  connection  with  spirits 
and  magic  to  all  the  other  beasts  of  the  wild.  Any  animal 
may  be  utilised  by  a spirit  as  a temporary  abiding-place, 
but  the  “ tiger  ” and  the  great  water-snake  independently 
of  such  spiritual  possession  are  magical  beasts.  Tales  gather 
round  them  ; differential  treatment  is  their  portion.  As 
regards  the  jaguar  this  may  be  due  to  the  fact  that  it  is 
seldom  seen,  and  therefore  the  more  mysterious  in  its  evil 
doings.  It  is  also  a dangerous  beast,  bold  and  fearless,  and 
to  be  dreaded  for  this  if  for  no  other  reason.  But  the 
anaconda  is  no  such  aggressive  enemy  of  man.  Yet,  though 
the  Indian  is  an  omnivorous  eater,  he  will  never  kill  either 
the  tiger  or  the  anaconda  for  food.1 

The  anaconda  is  looked  upon  as  an  evil  spirit.  It  is  the 
embodiment  of  the  water  spirit,  the  Yacu-mama, 2 whose  coils 
may  bar  the  passage  of  the  streams,  and  the  Indian  goes  in 
terror  of  it,  nor  would  he  bathe  in  its  vicinity,  though,  so  far 
as  my  experience  went,  the  gigantic  reptile  will  not  attack 
human  beings  unprovoked.3  The  Yacu-mama,  as  the  name 
signifies,  is  the  mother,  the  spirit  of  the  streams.  Among 
some  tribes,  though  not  in  my  field  of  exploration,  a relation- 
ship is  held  to  exist  between  this  water-spirit  and  Jurupari, 
so  it  is  said.4  It  occupies  the  place  in  Amazonian  folk-tales 
filled  by  the  sea-serpent  of  Europe  ; while  the  manatee  and 
the  dolphin  are  the  Amazonian  mermaids.  The  cow-fish, 
or  manatee,5  is  an  object  of  wonder  on  the  main  stream,  but 
is  unknown  on  the  upper  rivers.  I have  never  seen  one 
nearer  than  the  mouth  of  the  Issa  river.  The  dolphin  also 
is  not  found  in  the  higher  waters.  On  the  lower  rivers  it 

1 Elsewhere  this  appears  not  to  be  the  case.  See  Bates,  ii.  114. 

i Yacu  = water,  mama  = mother,  Mai  d’agoa  (Tupi).  Pachamama, 
the  earth,  was  worshipped  in  Peru,  and  the  Inca  also  reverenced  Mamac- 
cocha,  the  sea  mother  (Joyce,  pp.  154,  225). 

3 Bates  mentions  a boy  at  Ega  being  devoured  by  one  of  these  huge 
creatures  (Bates,  ii.  113-15). 

4 Clough,  p.  60. 

6 For  description  see  Wallace,  pp.  127-8. 


232 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


abounds,  but,  according  to  Bates,  no  Indian  willingly  kills 
one  ; and  though  dolphin  fat  makes  good  oil  the  belief  is 
current  that  when  burnt  in  lamps  it  causes  blindness.1 

Tigers  are  not  killed  unless  they  be  the  aggressors,  that 
is  to  say  they  are  never  killed  wantonly.  The  reason  for 
this  is  not  cowardice,  but  fear  of  further  aggression  on  the 
part  of  the  tiger  family,  or  from  the  family  of  the  medicine- 
man who  has  assumed  tiger  form.  Indians  look  upon 
animals  as  having  the  same  instincts  as  themselves,  and 
therefore  capable  of  a prolonged  blood-feud  with  humans 
who  may  have  wronged  them.  The  tribesman  is  accordingly 
anxious  not  to  provoke  war  with  the  tiger  tribe,  but  if 
Indians  are  challenged  by  the  death  of  one  of  their  number 
the  case  is  altered,  and  they  will  immediately  accept  combat. 
To  hunt  a jaguar  without  provocation  merely  for  food  or 
for  sport  would  be  foolishly  to  kindle  the  animosity  of  the 
whole  tiger  family,  to  rouse  the  violent  enmity  of  the  wander- 
ing spirit  domiciled  for  a time  in  the  body  of  the  hunted 
beast.  But  when  an  Indian  is  killed,  or  a child  lost — and 
tigers  are  usually  credited  with  the  destruction  of  any  child 
missing  from  its  home — the  medicine-man  is  called  upon, 
and  he  proceeds  to  discover  that  it  was  a tribal  enemy 
working  in  disguise,  probably  the  spirit  of  a hostile  medicine- 
man, intent  to  destroy  the  tribe  by  thus  slaying  potential 
warriors  or  mothers  of  warriors.  The  tiger  is  in  these 
circumstances  to  be  treated  as  a human  enemy.  A big 
tribal  hunt  is  organised,  and  if  the  quarry  be  secured  a 
feast  of  tiger-flesh  follows,  a feast  of  revenge,  very  similar 
in  detail  to  the  anthropophagous  orgies  already  described.2 
At  no  other  time  does  the  Indian  eat  jaguar  meat.  The 
tiger-skin  becomes  the  property  of  the  medicine-man,  whose 
magic  has  thus  triumphed  over  the  magic  of  a rival. 

I have  already  noted  that  anything  abnormal  or  un- 
known is  regarded  with  suspicious  dread.  My  camera  was 
naturally  endowed  by  Indian  imagination  with  magical 
properties,  the  most  general  idea  among  the  Boro  being  that 
it  was  an  infernal  machine,  designed  to  steal  the  souls  of 


1 Bates,  ii.  264. 

2 For  dance  at  tiger’s  " wake  ” see  Skeat,  Malay  Magic,  p.  169. 


PLATE  L. 


GROUP  OF  WITOTO  WOMEN  BY  DOUBLE-STEMMED  PALM  TREE 


GROUP  OF  WITOTO  MEN  BY  DOUBLE-STEMMED  PALM  TREE 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


233 


those  who  were  exposed  to  its  baleful  eye.  In  like  manner 
my  eyeglass  was  supposed  to  give  me  power  to  see  what 
was  in  their  hearts.  When  I first  attempted  to  take  photo- 
graphs the  natives  were  considerably  agitated  by  my  use  of 
a black  cloth  to  envelop  the  evil  thing  ; and  when  my  own 
head  went  under  it  they  had  but  one  opinion,  it  also  was 
some  strange  magic-working  that  would  enable  me  to  read 
their  minds,  their  unprofessed  intentions,  and  steal  their  souls 
away  ; or  rather  become  master  of  their  souls,  and  thus 
make  them  amenable  to  my  will  at  any  time  or  in  any  place. 
This  was  undoubtedly  due  in  part  to  the  fact  that  I was  able 
to  reproduce  the  photograph.  The  Indian  was  brought  face 
to  face  with  his  naked  soul,  represented  by  the  miniature 
of  himself  in  the  photographic  plate.  One  glance,  and  one 
only,  could  he  be  induced  to  give.  Never  again  would  he 
be  privy  to  such  magic.  The  Witoto  women  believed  that 
I was  working  more  material  magic,  and  feared  should  they 
suffer  exposure  to  the  camera  that  they  would  bear  resultant 
offspring  to  whom  the  camera  — or  the  photographer  — 
would  stand  in  paternal  relation. 

To  cite  another  instance  of  the  attitude  of  the  Indian 
towards  the  abnormal.  A certain  Witoto  tribe  have  a tree 
that  they  regard  as  an  object  almost  of  veneration.  This 
palm,  as  may  be  seen  in  the  photographs,  has  a forked 
stem,  the  trunk  dividing  into  two  some  few  feet  above  the 
ground.  I met  with  no  more  formulated  sign  of  tree- 
worship  than  this.  Unquestionably,  though  they  did  not 
worship — for  as  I have  said,  these  Indians  worship  nothing 
— the  Witoto  looked  upon  this  tree  as  a thing  to  be  respected, 
prized,  and  if  it  were  not  meted  proper  treatment  perchance 
to  be  definitely  feared.1 

Finally,  in  addition  to  all  these  spirits  good  or  evil,  the 
tribes  south  of  the  Japura  are  concerned  with  the  sun  and 
the  moon.  These  are  venerated,  the  sun  as  a great  and 
sympathetic  spirit,  but  not  an  incarnation  of  the  great 
Good  Spirit,  the  moon  as  his  wife,  who  is  sent  betimes  by 
the  sun  into  the  heavens  at  night  to  prevent  the  evil  spirits 
from  depopulating  the  world.  Of  the  stars  these  people 

1 Cf.  Darwin,  p.  64. 


234 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


seem  to  have  the  vaguest  ideas,  and  only  one  Boro  explained 
to  me  that  they  were  the  souls  of  the  chiefs  and  of  the  great 
men  of  his  tribe.1 

The  Indian  lives  in  a world  of  imagined  dangers,  over  and 
above  the  real  ones  that  confront  him  at  every  turn.  There 
is  possible  menace  in  any  place,  dormant  hostility  in  all 
surrounding  nature,  active  menace  in  the  unfamiliar  and 
unknown.  One  might  expect  to  find  that  he  decked  his 
person  and  his  belongings  with  an  unlimited  number  of 
charms,  to  protect  against  these  battalions  of  evil.  But 
it  is  not  so.  The  Tukano  do,  it  is  said,  place  certain  green, 
sweet-smelling  herbs  under  the  girdle  as  a love  charm,  to 
attract  the  opposite  sex,  but  nothing  of  this  sort  is  known 
south  of  the  Japura,  and  charms,  as  the  western  world  knows 
them,  hardly  exist.  I know  of  none  beyond  the  medicine- 
man’s magical  stones,  the  iguana-skin  wristlets  of  the  men 
and  the  wooden  ring  placed  on  a child’s  arm,  which  appear 
to  partake  of  the  nature  of  charms.  Magic  is  to  be  met  by 
magic,  not  by  material  properties.  The  hostile  evils  that 
threaten  a man  are  only  to  be  turned  aside  by  the  exercise 
of  more  powerful  anti-hostility  on  the  part  of  his  medicine- 
man. But  the  Indian  must  go  warily,  observe  signs  and 
portents,  pay  due  heed  to  good  and  evil  omens.  He  must, 
for  example,  never  shoot  a poisonous  snake  with  a blow- 
pipe. Should  he  do  so  one  poison  will  neutralise  the  other, 
and  destroy  not  only  the  poison  on  the  arrow  that  wounded 
the  snake,  but  also  all  poison  whatever  that  was  in  his 
possession  at  the  time.  It  is  magic  against  magic. 

As  an  instance  of  the  Indian  belief  in  omens,  I remember 
that  once  a small  species  of  wild  turkey  alighted  in  a clear- 
ing, and  kept  running  round  and  round  in  circles.  This  was 
taken  by  the  Indians  to  mean  that  people  were  coming  to 
the  maloka  who  might  be  either  friends  or  enemies.  This 
gave  rise  to  an  excited  discussion  as  to  which  would  be  the 
more  likely  event  of  the  two.  It  so  happened  that  a party 
of  friendly  Indians  did  arrive  that  same  evening.  Casement 

1 “ They  consider  the  sun  as  the  fountain-head  of  majesty  and  power 
and  even  of  beneficence,  and  as  the  abode  of  the  Great  Priests  who  have 
passed  to  the  spirit  world  and  fear  him  ” (W.  A.  Cook,  op.  cii.  p.55). 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


235 


relates  how  a large  wood  ibis  descended  among  a crowd  of 
Witoto  and  Muenane  in  the  compound  at  Occidente.1  A 
Muenane  wished  to  shoot  the  bird,  and  when  persuaded  to 
leave  it  unmolested,  expostulated  that  the  ibis  must  have 
been  sent  by  their  enemy  the  Karahone  to  bring  disaster 
upon  them.  As  a rule,  it  strikes  me,  an  enemy  would 
appear  in  a less  kindly  guise  than  that  of  an  ibis.  In  my 
case  no  attempt  was  made  by  the  Okaina  to  interfere  with 
the  bird  in  any  way,  in  fact  it  was  looked  upon  as  a friend 
who  came  to  give  due  notice  of  approaching  visitors,  and 
therefore  was  to  be  regarded  with  gratitude. 

1 Occidente  is  on  the  left  bank  of  the  Igara  Parana,  a tributary  of  the 
Issa. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 


Darkness  feared  by  Indians— Story-telling— Interminable  length  of  tales — 
Variants — Myths — Sun  and  moon — Deluge  traditions — Tribal  stories 
— Amazons — White  Indians  tradition— Boro  tribal  tale — Amazonian 
equivalents  of  many  world  tales — Beast  stories — Animal  character- 
istics— Difference  of  animal  characteristics  in  tale  and  tabu — No 
totems — Indian  hatred  of  animal  world. 

Darkness  is  full  of  mysterious  horrors  to  the  Indian,  nor 
can  one  wonder  that  he  fills  with  imaginary  demons  the 
weird  and  terrifying  solitudes  of  the  bush  by  night.  The 
children  are  openly  afraid  of  the  dark,  because  of  the  tigers 
that  may  then  be  prowling  about,  let  alone  less  substantial 
perils.  Adults  are  not  so  frank  with  regard  to  their  fears, 
but  as  a matter  of  course  all  occupations  cease  at  sun-down, 
and  every  one  makes  for  the  sheltered  warmth  of  the  maloka. 
There,  by  the  flickering  firelight,  after  the  contents  of  the 
family  hot-pot  have  been  discussed,  long  tales  are  told. 
First  one  and  then  another  takes  up  the  burden  of  recital. 
The  chatter  dies  slowly,  maybe  it  will  linger  on  by  the  fire 
of  some  verbose  story-teller,  till  the  chill  of  coming  dawn 
brings  the  sleepers  from  their  hammocks  to  stir  the  smoulder- 
ing embers  into  a blaze,  and  to  gather  round  them  waiting 
for  daybreak  to  dispel  the  evil  agents  of  the  night. 

The  tales  are  endlessly  long,  and  so  involved  that  they 
are  utterly  unintelligible  to  the  stranger  until  they  have 
been  repeated  many  times.  Then  the  drift  of  myth  and 
tradition,  the  meaning  of  fable  and  story,  may  be  broadly 
grasped.  To  win  it  comprehensively  in  detail  is  a matter 
of  time,  patience,  and  intimate  knowledge  of  the  speaker’s 
tongue.  Moreover,  the  tales  have  such  numerous  variations, 
and  are  so  grafted  the  one  on  to  the  other,  according  to  the 
momentary  fancy  of  the  narrators,  that  it  is  exceedingly 

236 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


237 


difficult  to  differentiate  between  a variant  of  a known  story 
and  one  that  may  in  its  essentials  have  been  hitherto  un- 
heard. 

“ It  is,”  postulates  Dr.  Rivers,  “ not  the  especially 
familiar  and  uniform  which  becomes  the  object  of  myth.”  1 
The  mythopceic  influence  of  that  which  is  seldom  seen  would 
lead  us  to  expect  that  among  these  Indians,  sunk  in  “ the 
gloom  of  an  eternal  under-world  of  trees,”  2 the  heavenly 
bodies  would  play  a prominent  part  in  tribal  folk-tale  and 
myth.  But  so  far  as  the  stars  are  concerned  this  is  not  the 
case  at  all ; 3 they  seem  to  be  ignored  ; and,  as  regards 
the  sun  and  moon,  it  is  the  sun — contrary  to  usual  tropical 
custom — that  is  the  most  important,  the  moon — as  with 
more  northern  peoples — occupies  the  subordinate  position 
of  wife.  Her  inconstant  appearances  are  accounted  for  by 
the  suggestion  mentioned  in  the  previous  chapter  that  she 
is  sent  periodically  by  the  sun  her  husband  to  drive  away 
the  evil  spirits  of  the  night  that  await  the  stray  or  heedless 
loiterers  in  the  forest  thickets.  But  this  protective  character 
is  denied  to  the  moon  by  other  tribes,  and  some  South 
American  Indians  will  hide  young  infants  lest  the  moon 
should  injure  them.4 

What  I cannot  but  consider  the  most  important  of  their 
stories  are  the  many  myths  that  deal  with  the  essential  and 
now  familiar  details  of  everyday  life  in  connection  with  the 
manihoi  ntilissima  and  other  fruits.  The  tale  that  follows 
does  not  purport  to  be  a literal  translation  of  the  myth  as 
related  to  me,  or  in  my  hearing.  I have  merely  attempted 
to  put  together,  infinitely  more  concisely  than  any  Indian 
raconteur  would  ever  dream  of  doing,  the  various  details 
of  the  local  story  and  belief : 

The  Good  Spirit  when  he  came  to  earth  showed  the  Indians  a 
manioc  plant,  and  taught  them  how  to  extract  the  evil  spirit’s 
influence.5  . 


1 Folklore  Journal,  1912,  p.  314. 

2 Casement,  Contemporary  Review,  September  1912,  p.  325. 

3 Indians  on  the  main  river,  however,  according  to  Dr.  Silva  Coutinho, 
not  only  give  names  to  a great  number  of  celestial  bodies  [stars],  but 

they  have  legends  about  them  ” (Nery,  p.  252). 

4 Markham,  pp.  93-4 


5 Poison. 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


238 

But  he  did  not  seem  to  have  explained  how  the  plant  might 
be  reproduced. 

The  Indians  searched  for  seeds,  but  found  none. 

They  buried  the  young  tuberous  roots,  but  to  no  effect. 

The  Good  Spirit  was  vexed  with  them  ; that  is  why  he  did 
not  divulge  the  secret. 

But  long,  long  after,  a virgin  of  the  tribe,  a daughter  of  the 
chief,  was  found  to  be  with  child. 

When  questioned  she  replied  that  long,  long  ago,  when  sick 
to  death,  and  under  the  medicine-man’s  magic,1  she  wandered 
far,  far  into  the  bush. 

In  the  bush  she  found  a beautiful  manioc  plant. 

She  was  seduced  by  the  tuberous  root — some  Indians  say  the 
plant  was  metamorphosed  into  a beautiful  young  hunter — and 
in  due  course  she  gave  birth  to  a girl-child,  who  could  both  talk 
and  walk  at  birth. 

This  child  took  the  women  of  the  tribe  to  a beautiful  plantation 
of  manioc,  far,  far  up  a certain  river,  and  there  the  precocious 
infant  explained  how  to  reproduce  the  plant  with  bits  of  the 
stalks. 

So  to  this  day  the  chief  food  of  all  the  peoples  is  cassava. 

This  story  is  utterly  different  from  one  Spruce  heard 
from  more  northern  tribes  at  Sao  Gabriel.  The  Barre  story 
has  it  that  a bird  discovered  to  the  Indians  the  use  of  the 
mandiocca,  then  a great  and  solitary  tree.  All  the  tribes 
came  to  procure  the  roots,  and  when  none  were  left  carried 
off  branches  ; hence  the  varieties  of  mandiocca  now  grown.2 

Deluge  traditions  are  to  be  found  among  practically  all 
the  tribes.  I repeatedly  asked  questions  on  this  point,  and 
invariably  found,  as  other  travellers  had  discovered  previously 
elsewhere,3  that  the  Indians  would  tell  of  a flood  that  drove 
their  fathers  in  the  long,  long  ago  to  seek  refuge  in  canoes, 
for  all  the  earth  was  under  water.  But  though  Mr.  Joyce 
considers  it  “ strange  how  this  deluge  myth  not  only  pervades 
practically  the  whole  of  the  Andean  region  of  South  America, 
but  extends  also  to  many  regions  in  the  northern  portion  of 

1 Narcotic. 

2 Spruce,  i.  3x4.  In  South  America  manihot  is  propagated  by  means  of 
slips  or  cuttings  ; but  in  the  Torres  Straits  the  manihot  sp.  introduced  by 
the  white  man  is  grown  from  pieces  of  the  old  roots  ( Exped . Torres  Straits, 
iv.  149). 

3 Clough,  p.  212  ; Humboldt,  ii.  182  ; Oakenfull,  pp.  34-5  ; im  Thurn, 
P-  375  : Joyce,  p.  167. 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


239 


the  Continent,”  it  must  be  remembered  that  inundations 
are  frequent  in  these  regions,  and  a great  one  probably 
occurs  every  few  decades.  It  would  only  be  strange  were 
there  no  deluge  myths.  As  Sir  Everard  im  Thurn  has  so  aptly 
put  it,  when  “ the  Indian  tells  in  his  simple  language  the 
tradition  of  the  highest  flood  which  covered  all  the  small 
world  known  to  him,  and  tells  how  the  Indians  escaped  it, 
it  is  not  difficult  to  realise  that  the  European  hearer,  theo- 
logically prejudiced  in  favour  of  Noah,  ...  is  apt  to  identify 
the  two  stories.”  1 

With  the  possible  exception  of  the  Eldorado  fable,  there 
is  no  South  American  legend  that  has  excited  so  much 
interest  and  speculation  as  the  story  of  the  warrior  women 
who  in  some  mysterious  forest  fastness  dwelt  apart  from  men, 
cultivated  masculine  attributes,  and  destroying  the  male 
brought  up  the  female  progeny  resultant  from  the  yearly 
exception  to  their  celibate  rule,2  to  be  women  of  the  same 
stern  pattern  as  their  extraordinary  selves.  Some  writers 
would  make  them  a seventeenth  century  edition  of  the 
modem  suffragette,  rebel  against  the  “ tyranny  ” of  man — 
and  with  certainly  better  reason  for  rebellion.3  The  story 
has  been  treated  as  mere  Spanish  romance,4  or  a mistake 
on  the  part  of  the  invaders  due  to  the  custom  of  wearing 
the  hair  long  among  many  of  the  tribes.5  It  has  been  taken 
to  be  a deliberate  fabrication  on  the  part  of  Pizarro  to 
explain  his  failure,  a temptation  to  which  Sir  Wralter  Raleigh 
himself  also  fell  victim.6  Be  it  what  it  may,  the  tale  was 
told,  the  land  known  as  the  land  of  these  women  warriors, 
and  their  name  of  Amazons  bestowed  upon  the  great  river. 
The  tale  of  warrior  women  is,  however,  not  confined  to 
the  forests  of  the  Amazon.  One  comes  therewith  to  the 
question  of  nomenclatory  origin.  The  Baron  de  Santa- 
Anna  Nery  devotes  the  first  ten  pages  of  his  Land  of  the 

1 im  Thurn,  p.  375. 

2 Humboldt,  ii.  400-1 ; Chanoine  Bernadino  de  Souza,  Para  e Amazon  ; 
see  Nery,  pp.  8-9. 

3 Humboldt,  pp.  88,  400.  4 Spruce,  ii.  561. 

6 Spruce  wisely  remarks  on  this  point,  " that  the  Spaniards  had  been 
for  two  whole  years  among  Indians  who  wore  their  hair  long,”  and  therefore 
were  not  likely  to  mistake  men  for  women  (Spruce,  ii.  459). 

6 Nery,  p.  6. 


240 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


Amazons  to  this  discussion-  It  seems  to  be  a case  of  where 
doctors  disagree.1  But  at  least  the  tale,  Asiatic,  African, 
or  autochthonic,  was  localised  here,  and  stories  of  feminine 
prowess  in  the  field  continued  to  be  quoted  even  in  the 
nineteenth  century.  Wallace  himself  mentions  “ tradi- 
tions ” said  to  be  extant  among  the  Indians  themselves,  of 
“ women  without  husbands.” 2 This  is  no  proof  of  the 
local  existence  at  any  time  of  celibate  women  warriors. 
The  tradition  may  well  exist,  the  only  curiosity  again  would 
be  if  it  did  not.  For  three  centuries  at  least  the  invading 
white  man  has  talked  of,  and  inquired  for,  a tribe  of  such 
warrior  women.  It  takes  less  than  this  to  start  the  most 
robust  of  folk-tales.  A world  agape  like  the  Athenians  of 
old  for  some  new  thing,  some  tale  to  vary  the  oft-told  stories, 
does  not  require  three  centuries  to  adopt  a novel  romance. 
The  question  “ do  such  things  exist  ? ” is  not  asked  long 
before  it  ceases  to  be  a question  and  becomes  an  assertion. 
The  more  positive  the  assertion  the  greater  will  be  the 
wonder  of  the  tale.  When  the  wonder  is  sufficient  it  will 
be  established  as  a current  myth.  I do  not  therefore  deny 
that  such  a tale  is  told,  or  at  least  may  be  told,  but  for  my 
own  part  I never  heard  mention  of  it.  Spruce  speaks  of 
women  assisting  their  men  to  repulse  an  attack  on  tribal 
head-quarters,3  but  no  story  of  any  woman  fighting,  or  having 
done  so  at  any  time,  was  ever  told  me.  Moreover  it  should 
not  be  forgotten  in  this  connection  that  all  weapons  are 
strictly  tabu  to  women. 

A story  that  is  prevalent  throughout  South  America  tells 
of  a race  of  white  Indians  who  sleep  in  the  daytime,  and  only 
go  abroad  at  night.  This  tale  was  laughed  at  when  repeated 
at  a recent  meeting  of  the  Royal  Geographical  Society,  but 
it  is  certainly  in  existence  among  the  tribes,4  and  Crevaux 

1 The  French  traveller  rejects  the  a-,  /xafos  theory  in  favour  of  the  a/ta 
fiivT) — bound  with  a belt  (Nery,  p.  2). 

2 Wallace,  p.  343. 

3 " I have  myself  seen  that  Indian  women  can  fight.  . . . The  women 
pile  up  heaps  of  stones,  to  serve  as  missiles  for  the  men  ” (Spruce,  ii.  457-8). 
This,  vide  “ stones,”  is  not  possible  in  the  Issa-Japura  district. 

4 Where  tribal  differentiation  of  colour  is  so  marked  as  among  these 
people  it  is  only  natural  that  tales  should  be  told  of  some  mythical 
“ white  ” folk. 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


241 


states  that  the  Ouayana  will  not  go  near  one  river,  “ a cause 
des  singuliers  habitants  qui  habiteraient  pres  des  sources  . . . 
des  Indiens  aux  chevaux  blonds  qui  dorment  le  jour  et  marchent 
toute  la  nuit.1 

Of  tales  as  to  the  reputed  origin  of  any  tribe  I have  no 
note,  though  when  I cross-questioned  a Boro  tribe  as  to  why 
a certain  district  was  almost  uninhabited,  they  told  me  that 
the  reason  was  as  follows  : 

Once  a large  tribe  lived  there,  one  of  the  most  powerful  of 
all  the  tribes,  and  also  one  of  the  most  numerous. 

But  long,  long  ago  a chief,  an  Abihibya,  of  this  tribe  of  the 
Utiguene  had  a daughter,  who  was  not  only  ugly  but  bird 
rumped.  The  Chekobe,  the  medicine-man,  gave  her  the  name 
of  Komuine.2 

When  she  grew  older  and  was  about  five  feet  high,3  Komuine 
went  into  the  Bake,  the  bush,  to  pick  dio,  peppers,  and  berries, 
but  did  not  return. 

The  tribe  then  said  that  a wipa,  a tiger,  must  have  carried  her 
off.  So  a tribal  hunt  was  instituted,  and  the  bush  searched  for 
the  tiger ; but  with  no  success,  for  when  they  were  in  the  bush 
they  were  attacked  by  a wicked  tribe,  which  fell  upon  them  and 
killed  them  in  great  numbers. 

So  they  returned  with  great  sadness  to  the  maloka. 

Long,  long  after  this  Komuine  reappeared  in  the  Ha-a,  the 
great  house  of  the  tribe,  and  sang  a solo,  as  is  the  custom  among 
the  people  when  making  a complaint.  And  this  is  the  complaint 
Komuine  sang  : 

The  Chief’s  daughter  was  lost  in  the  forest, 

And  no  one  came  to  find  the  spoor  ; 

The  branches  were  broken,  the  gwahake-ane,  the  leaves,  were  turned, 
And  no  one  came  to  find  the  spoor. 

And  where  were  my  brothers,  and  the  sons  of  the  chief’s  brothers,4 
That  no  one  came  to  find  the  spoor  ? 

And  while  Komuine  was  dancing,  it  was  noticed,  to  the  disgust 
of  the  tribe,  that  her  bird  rump  was  covered  with  nikwako,  hair, 
so  the  old  women  came  and  rubbed  milk  5 upon  her  to  remove 
the  unsightliness.  But  as  they  pulled  and  the  unsightliness  was 


1 Crevaux,  Voyages  dans  l' Amhique  du  Sud,  p.  284. 

2 Komuine  = monkey  (Boro). 

3 “ So  high  ” — demonstrated  with  the  hand. 

4 These  would  be  her  natural  protectors. 

5 Rubber  latex.  See  Depilation. 


R 


242 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


removed,  more  unsightliness  came,  and  the  hairier  she  grew. 
When  she  was  covered  with  leaves,1  she  told  her  story  : 

“ O my  brothers  ! When  I was  in  the  forest  picking  peppers  a 
komuine  came  to  me,  and  taking  me  by  force  he  deflowered  me. 
He  took  me  with  him  into  the  bush  to  become  his  gwame,  his 
woman,  and  I gave  birth  to  twins,  and  the  second  one  was 
buried,  for  even  komuine  have  but  one  ehemene,  one  child.  And 
the  child  was  hairy  like  a komuine,  but  had  the  face  of  a man. 
And  when  I gave  him  milk  the  unsightliness  came,  and  I ran 
from  the  beasts  and  came  to  my  own  people.” 

The  tribe  then  had  a tobacco  palaver,  and  because  of  the  un- 
sightliness, and  the  pollution,2  and  the  blood-feud  with  their 
enemies  which  had  cost  the  tribe  so  many  warriors,  it  was  decided 
to  destroy  her. 

And  when  she  heard  this  she  fled  into  the  forest,  and  all  the 
komuine  came  and  robbed  the  emiye,  the  plantation,  and  there 
was  no  pika,  manioc,  and  no  kome,  fruit. 

And  when  the  men  of  the  Utiguene  went  out  to  hunt,  the  lianas 
were  like  a net  in  the  path,  and  so  thick  no  one  could  pass.  And 
the  tribe  got  thinner  and  thinner,  and  now  to-day  there  is  no 
tribe  of  the  Utiguene.3 

The  Amazonians  have  stories  equivalent  to  many  world- 
wide tales,  such  as  that  of  the  lion  and  the  mouse,  only  in 
the  forest  version  it  is  the  jaguar  who  enacts  the  lion’s  part, 
while  the  mouse  is  replaced  by  the  ant,  a liana  serves  instead 
of  a net  to  keep  the  great  beast  captive,  and  there  are  other 
correspondingly  local  and  numerous  variations.  The  hare 
and  the  tortoise  fable  has  its  counterpart  in  the  story 
of  a race  between  the  deer  and  the  tortoise.  The  ramifica- 
tions of  this  tale  are  most  intricate.  These  stories  are  very 
dissimilar  in  detail,  so  far  as  I could  gather,  from  their 
equivalents  in  the  Old  World,  but  in  each  case  the  same 
principle  is  evolved  : by  a widely  different  route  Old  and 
New  reach  eventually  an  identical  goal. 

1 To  hide  the  unsightliness.  2 Of  the  chief’s  daughter. 

3 This  may  be  a folk-tale  of  the  monkey-people  stealing  Indian  women 
for  their  mates.  Cf.  Skeat,  Malay  Magic,  p.  185  ; Clifford,  Studies  in  Brown 
Humanity , p.  243. 

But  it  should  not  be  overlooked  that  the  Boro  depile  most  carefully, 
while  the  Andoke  medicine-man  does  not  depile  at  all,  and  the  Andoke  are 
mortal  foes  of  the  Boro.  The  Karahone  also  are  said  not  to  depile,  and 
on  this  score  would  be  regarded  by  the  Boro  as  no  better  than  brute  beasts. 
So  this  story  may  be  a traditional  account  of  the  actual  rape  of  a chief’s 
daughter  by  a hostile  tribe,  the  Amazonian  version  of  Helen  and  Troy. 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


243 


There  is  a marked  prevalence  of  animal  stories,  tales— 
and  this  is  a point  not  to  be  overlooked — of  the  familiar 
forest  beasts,  the  birds  and  the  reptiles  of  everyday  life. 
In  these  the  birds  and  beasts  have  certain  accepted  char- 
acteristics, they  stand  in  the  Indian  folk-tales  as  representing 
definite  abstract  ideas.  Thus,  as  with  us,  the  tortoise  is 
crafty  and  slow  ; the  ant  and  the  bee  are  typical  of  industry. 
The  snake,  that  is  to  say  the  poisonous  snake,  in  Amazonian 
myth,  as  in  Biblical  story,  represents  evil,  the  evil  eye. 
The  tapir  stands  for  blindness  and  stupidity,  while  cunning 
and  deceit  are  represented  by  the  dog.  These  bush  dogs 
approximate  to  our  fox,  and  like  Reynard  have  sharp  up- 
standing ears.  They  prowl  round  the  maloka,  and  will 
clear  off  anything  they  can  find,  even  in  close  vicinity  to 
the  house.  The  agouti,  or  capybara,  takes  with  the  Indian 
the  place  held  in  African  folk-tales  by  the  hare.  He  is  the 
wittiest  of  beasts,  can  outmanoeuvre  all  the  others,  and  is 
the  practical  joker  of  the  forest.  The  boa-constrictor,  un- 
like the  poisonous  snake,  is  not  evil ; it  exemplifies  the 
silent  and  the  strong.  The  chattering  parrot  represents 
irresponsibility  ; it  is  a woman  in  disguise,  and  is  certain 
in  Indian  animal  tales  to  be  noisy  and  unreliable,  and 
probably  will  betray  some  secret.  The  peccary  is  for 
constancy,  the  hawk  for  cunning,  the  sloth  for  laziness,  and 
the  tiger  for  bravery.  The  monkey  stands  for  tenacity  of 
life,  which  is  probably  due  to  the  fact  that  owing  to  con- 
striction of  the  muscles  its  hold  on  a branch  does  not  relax 
for  some  time  after  death. 

These  characteristics,  however,  do  not  appear  to  govern 
in  any  way  the  question  of  food  tabu  concerning  the  re- 
spective animals.  On  the  contrary,  the  reasons  alleged  for 
such  tabu  often  appear  to  be,  if  anything,  opposed  to  what 
one  would  expect  to  find  from  the  foregoing  classification. 
It  is  the  material,  not  the  abstract  characteristic  with  which 
the  tabu  deals.  Moreover  the  tabu  varies.  Irrespective  of 
those  connected  with  birth,  at  certain  times  of  the  year 
there  is  a restriction,  if  it  does  not  amount  to  an  actual 
prohibition  or  a tabu,  with  regard  to  eating  heavy  meats. 
Simson  assigns  such  avoidance  to  a belief  current  among 


244 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


Indians  “ that  they  partake  of  the  nature  of  the  animal  they 
devour.”  This  is  the  case  professedly  for  any  tabu  on  foods 
for  women  with  child,  but  the  reason  given  to  me  for  general 
restriction  as  regards,  say,  tapir  flesh,  was  not  that  the  eater 
would  be  affected  by  any  characteristic  of  the  animal, 
material  or  spiritual,  but  that  the  tapir  meat  if  eaten  at 
forbidden  seasons  was  very  bad,  that  is  to  say  unhealthy, 
and  would  be  the  cause  of  certain  skin  diseases.  It  prob- 
ably would  be.  Tiger  meat,  as  already  explained,  is  treated 
much  as  human  flesh  is  treated.  Apart  from  the  tiger,  the 
meat  of  larger  game  will,  it  is  sometimes  averred  by  other 
tribes,  make  the  eater  gross  and  unwieldy.1  In  connection 
with  this  question  of  big  game  and  food,  Spruce  refers  to  a 
“ superstition  ” among  the  Uaupes  Indians  that  may  be  a 
possible  survival  of  a totemic  system,  though  he  does  not 
advance  the  theory.  “ How  should  we  kill  the  stag  ? ” 
they  say,  “he  is  our  grandfather.”  2 However  this  may 
be  with  other  language-groups,  among  those  of  the  Issa- 
Japura  regions  there  is  no  trace  of  any  totemic  system, 
except  in  so  far  as  that  boys  and  girls  are  named,  as  already 
stated,  after  birds  and  flowers  respectively.  Animal  names 
are  made  use  of  occasionally,  but  only  as  names  of  contempt 
and  ridicule.  These  Indians  look  upon  all  animals  as 
enemies.  To  suggest  that  any  animal  is  an  ancestor 
would  be  the  direst  of  insults  to  people  who  so  strenuously 
try  to  avoid  all  likeness  to  the  brute  creation.  One  need 
only  refer  to  such  customs  as  the  killing  of  one  of  twins,  or 
depilation,  to  give  the  lie  to  any  theory  that  would  seek  to 
trace  in  Boro  story — for  example — for  sign  of  suggested 
descent  from  any  eponymous  animal.  Relationship  is 
traced  indeed  only  so  far  as  memory  serves  ; that  is  to  say 
the  oldest  man  may  relate  how  he  remembers  his  grand- 
father telling  who  his  grandfather’s  father  was.  Also  there  are 
invariably  tales  of  bygone  chiefs,  great  warriors  whose  deeds 
and  characters  are  outstanding  enough  to  be  remembered. 

1 Simson,  p.  168. 

2 Spruce,  i.  332.  im  Thurn  relates  of  the  Arawak  Indians  that  " each 
family  is  descended — their  fathers  knew  how,  but  they  themselves  have 
forgotten — from  its  eponymous  animal,  bird,  or  plant  ” (im  Thurn,  pp.  184, 
376). 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


245 


A story  is  told  of  a small  fish  that  is  to  be  found  in  these 
rivers  which  may  be  fact  or  may  be  fable.  All  Indians  say 
that  this  fish  is  a parasite  that  will  find  its  way  into  the 
intestines  of  human  beings  when  they  are  bathing.  This 
belief  is  noted  elsewhere,  and  I merely  refer  to  it  here 
because  it  is  so  universally  credited  without — so  far  as  I 
could  ascertain — an  atom  of  corroborative  evidence. 


CHAPTER  XIX 


Limitations  of  speech — -Differences  of  dialect — Language-groups — Tribal 
names — Difficulties  of  languages — Method  of  transliteration — Need 
of  a common  medium — Ventral  ejaculations — Construction — Pro- 
nouns as  suffix  or  prefix — Negatives — Gesture  language — Numbers 
and  reckoning — Indefinite  measure — Time — No  writing,  signs,  nor 
personal  marks — Tribal  calls — Drum-language  code— -Conversational 
repetitions — N oisy  talkers — V entriloquists — F alsetto  voice — Conversa- 
tional etiquette. 


In  speech,  as  in  everything  else,  the  forest  Indian  is  confined 
within  the  narrow  limits  of  his  immediate  surroundings. 
Unlike  the  nomadic  Indian  of  the  plains,  he  passes  his  entire 
existence  in  an  area  little  larger  than  an  English  parish. 
He  has  almost  no  commercial  dealings  with  his  neighbours. 
The  only  fresh  blood  that  penetrates  his  tribe  is  brought  in 
by  the  immature  children  taken  prisoners  in  war.  Like  the 
landscape  his  imagination  owns  no  perspective,  no  horizon. 
In  the  Amazonian  bush  an  Indian  may  live  and  die  without 
ever  having  gazed  upon  a terrestrial  object  at  the  distance 
of  a mile.  His  mode  of  life,  a community  within  a single 
house,  under  a single  roof,  makes  of  household  words  a 
dialect,  and  with  the  passing  of  a generation  makes  that 
dialect  a language. 

In  a society  where  each  tribe  is  complete  in  itself  and  at 
deadly  enmity  with  all  its  neighbours,  and  where  writing 
is  unknown,  language  must  naturally  undergo  very  rapid, 
very  definite  change.  Moreover  Indians  will  not  voluntarily 
speak  the  language  of  other  Indians.  Thus  the  Amazonian 
natives  use  no  common  tongue,  and  there  is  little  in  the 
vocabularies  so  far  collected  to  explain  either  the  origin  or 
the  relationship  of  the  existing  dialects.  Tribes  divided  by 
the  breadth  of  a narrow  river  speak  languages  that  are 

246 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


247 


mutually  unintelligible.  On  the  other  hand,  tribes  distant 
some  hundreds  of  miles  from  each  other  possess  a language 
with  a common  root,  which  is  fundamentally  different  from 
those  in  use  among  all  the  intervening  peoples. 

So  far  as  I could  classify  them,  the  language-groups  of 
this  district  fall  under  thirteen  headings.  By  group  1 
comprehend  all  tribes  speaking  a language  with  common 
roots,  though  the  dialects  may  vary  considerably.  These 
groups,  and  the  approximate  number  of  Indians  in  each, 
are  as  follows  : 


Witoto 
Yuri 

YahuaKr  . 

Pegua  /Yahua 
Andoke 

Boro  or  Miranha 
Muenane  . 

Nonuya 
Resigero 

Okaina  or  Dukaiya 
Karahone'i 
Umaua  iKarahone 
Saha  j 
Tukana 
Yahuna 
Makuna 
Opaina 
Bara 
Kuretu  , 

Menimehe') 

Akaroa  / 


15.000 
unknown 

unknown 

10.000 

15.000 

2.000 

1.000 

1.000 

2.000 

25.000 


unknown 


15,000 


According  to  Koch-Griinberg  all  the  tribes  on  the  Tikie 
speak  the  Tukano  language,  and  as  a result  of  segmentation 
the  Airi  and  Tihio  speak  the  Dessana  language. 

Occasionally  tribes,  though  speaking  an  entirely  diverse 
tongue,  and  members  of  a distinctly  different  language- 
group,  have  some  comprehension  of  the  tongue  spoken  by  a 
neighbouring  language-group.  For  instance,  the  Muenane 
can  understand  Witoto,  but  they  have  no  knowledge  of 
Boro,  probably  because  they  come  more  in  contact  with  the 
former  people.  The  Menimehe  know  some  words  of  Tupi, 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


248 

or  lingoa-geral,  which  is  extraordinary,  even  though  their 
acquaintance  with  it  is  very  slight. 

The  tribal  names  in  ordinary  use  are,  as  has  been  said, 
bestowed  by  neighbouring  tribes,  and  are  merely  nicknames. 
It  follows  that  the  name  by  which  a tribe  becomes  known 
to  a traveller  is  the  name  in  use  among  the  tribes  in  the 
districts  through  which  he  passes,  so  that  a visitor  from 
the  north  probably  knows  of  a tribe  by  a different  extra- 
tribal  name  from  that  known  to  a new-comer  from  the  south. 
The  difficulties  of  identification  caused  by  this  have  already 
been  commented  on  in  an  earlier  chapter,  it  is  only  necessary 
to  refer  to  them  here  in  so  far  as  the  same  difficulties  beset 
any  attempt  to  learn  the  local  dialects. 

Of  the  thirteen  languages  tabulated  above,  one  of  the 
most  difficult,  and  the  most  guttural,  is  the  tongue  spoken 
by  the  Resigero  group  of  tribes.  Nonuya,  also  guttural,  is 
perhaps  equally  difficult,  whilst  Andoke  is  possibly  the 
worst,  as  it  is  almost  ventral.  Okaina,  though  presenting 
many  difficulties,  is  easier  to  acquire  than  the  first -named 
three,  and  may  be  characterised  as  nasal,  while  Boro  and 
Witoto  are  neither  nasal  nor  ventral  nor  impossibly  guttural. 
Muenane  is  somewhat  akin  to  Boro,  but  is  richer  in  words. 
Menimehe  approximates  more  to  the  speech  of  the  Uaupes 
River  Indians,  and  it  again  is  nasal. 

The  endeavour  to  reproduce  the  guttural  expressions  of 
the  Indian  in  Roman  letters  is  rendered  the  more  complex 
by  the  uncertainty  of  his  utterance  and  the  aural  variations 
of  his  European  interpreters.  The  same  word  phonetically 
transcribed  by  an  Englishman,  a German,  a Frenchman,  and 
a Spaniard  bears  little  or  no  resemblance  to  a common 
inspiration.  Each  European  observer  conveys  to  his 
written  word  the  error  of  his  national  idiosyncrasy  of  im- 
pression and  pronunciation. 

The  difficulty  of  a phonetic  rendition  of  a foreign  language 
into  English  has  long  been  apparent,  and  is  one  shared — 
though  in  a lesser  degree — by  all  Continental  linguists.  To 
meet  this  difficulty  the  Germans  have  devised  a system 
almost  Chinese  in  its  intricacy,  while  the  French  seek  to 
reproduce  such  simple  sounds  as  that  of  our  English  " W ” 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


249 


by  combinations  of  diphthongs.  Many  of  these  elaborate 
phoneticisms  have  been  adopted  by  English  writers  without 
consideration  of  the  lingual  limitations  of  their  inventors, 
or  of  the  confusion  induced  in  the  mind  of  the  student. 

To  simplify  transliteration,  though  at  the  sacrifice  of  the 
finer  distinctions  of  the  language,  the  orthographic  system 
of  the  Royal  Geographical  Society  has  been  used  in  this 
work,1  and  the  explanation  of  the  system  given  in  the 
appendix  with  the  Witoto  and  Boro  vocabularies  is  taken 
from  the  rules  laid  down  by  that  Society  and  adopted  by  the 
Royal  Anthropological  Institute.2  This  system  ordains  that 
an  approximation  to  the  sound  should  be  aimed  at  only,  as 
any  system  which  attempted  to  represent  the  more  delicate 
inflexions  of  sound  and  of  accent  would  be  so  complicated 
that  it  would  merely  defeat  itself. 

I attempted  to  make  a vocabulary  of  Andoke  words,  but 
the  language  is,  as  I have  noted,  so  guttural,  not  to  say 
ventral,  that  it  renders  all  attempts  impossible  without 
some  medium  to  work  upon  at  the  start,  such  as  I had  with 
Boro  and  Witoto.  In  these  two  cases  Brown’s  knowledge 
of  the  latter,  and  even  his  very  slight  acquaintance  with  the 
first,  were  of  great  use  to  me  as  a basis  upon  which  to  work. 

As  an  example  of  the  difficulty  to  be  faced  without  some 
common  medium,  I have  asked  a native,  “ What  is  this  ? ” 
and  touched  my  head  or  a stick,  but  could  find  no  clue  to 
whether  his  answer  referred  to  the  thing  touched  or  my 
action  in  touching  it.  Only  a long  and  tedious  study  can 
overcome  conundrums  of  this  description,  and  when  to 
these  is  added  the  impossibility  of  conveying  accurately  by 
written  signs  the  sound  as  uttered,  the  attempt  proved 
beyond  my  powers  and  resources. 

Mention  has  been  made  by  one  writer  of  the  “ ‘ cluck  ’ of 
satisfaction — common  to  all  the  tribes  of  the  Provincia 
Oriental.” 3 I consider  the  sound  emitted  by  the  Issa- 

1 The  general  principle  is  well  known,  and  is  now  used  both  by  the 
authorities  of  the  United  States  and  of  Great  Britain.  It  consists  in 
giving  to  the  vowels  in  native  words  their  Italian  significance,  and  to  the 
consonants  that  which  they  have  in  the  English  language. 

2 Notes  and  Queries  on  Anthropology  (1912),  pp.  187-96. 

3 Simson,  p.  94. 


250 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


Japura  peoples  as  a sign  of  assent  or  pleasure  is  more 
ventral  than  that  described  by  Sirnson.  It  is  approximately 
Hum ! like  a grunted  sigh  of  satisfaction.  The  exclamation 
of  surprise  amongst  all  these  peoples  is  very  similar  and  may 
be  written  Huh ! This  sound,  lengthened  considerably,  is  the 
Witoto  affirmative  Huhhh.  Huh  ! huh ! huhh ! as  affirma- 
tives are  very  freely  used  in  conversation.  The  more  an 
Indian  agrees  with  the  speaker  the  more  ventral  do  his 
ejaculations  become.  The  negative  will  not  be  used  except 
in  direct  answer  to  a question,  for  it  is  contrary  to  Indian 
custom  and  etiquette  to  interrupt  or  contradict.  The 
absence  of  the  affirmative  Huh!  is  practically  a contradic- 
tion, on  the  ground  of  doing  nothing  being  itself  negative. 
A similar  idea  is  seen  in  the  tobacco  palaver,  where  the 
dissentient  signifies  his  disapproval  by  abstaining  from 
licking  tobacco.  Should  an  Indian,  however,  wish  to  give 
an  affirmative  answer  to  a negative  question,  he  will 
then  make  use  of  the  negative  No,  for  to  answer  Yes  in 
Indian  parlance  would  be  to  confirm  the  negative. 

This  brings  us  to  the  question  of  construction,  and  it  is 
at  once  apparent  that  in  Witoto,  for  example,  the  con- 
struction of  a sentence  tallies  more  with  the  construction  of 
the  deaf  and  dumb  mute’s  gesture  language  than  with  any- 
thing else,  that  is  to  say  it  is  the  very  antithesis  of  the 
Chinese,  or  of  our  own.  It  may  be  said  of  the  Indian,  as 
Tylor  wrote  of  the  deaf  and  dumb  mute,  that  he  “ strings 
together  . . . the  various  ideas  he  wishes  to  connect,  in 
what  appears  to  be  the  natural  order  in  which  they  follow 
one  another  in  his  mind.”  1 For  instance  the  Witoto  say, 
Benomo  honne,  literally  “ here  put  it  ” ; benomo  ekkono,  “ here 
open  it  you  ” ; eijo  vie  dotoenyino,  “ much  fruit  put  in  it  not 
do  you  ” — “ do  not  put  much  fruit  into  it.” 

It  will  be  noted  that  the  personal  pronoun  here  has 
become  the  suffix  of  the  verb.  This  is  the  general  rule,  as 
in  dinitikwe,  “ I shall  carry  it”  ; a chimitekwe,  “ I am  going  to 
see  ” ; ona  dueruetckwe,  “ I want  you.”  But  this  rule  is  not  in- 
variable, as  we  find  kwe  mona,  “ I am  unable”  ; ke  hanyete,  “I 
do  not  understand,”  with  the  pronoun  kwe  or  kc  placed,  as  we 

1 Tylor,  p.  25. 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


251 


should  put  the  “I”  before  the  verb;  nor  is  the  variation  caused 
by  the  negative,  as  “ I do  not  want  you  ” is  ona  dueruenetckwe. 
In  this  instance  the  position  of  the  personal  pronoun  kwe 
is  probably  determined  by  the  objective  ona,  which  structur- 
ally must  precede,  otherwise  the  meaning  of  the  phrase 
would  be  inverted  and  become  “ You  do  not  want  me.”  A 
pronoun  is  also  used  as  a prefix  to  a noun  to  denote  pos- 
session, as  tano,  “ cassava,”  ometano,  “ your  cassava.” 
According  to  Koch-Grunberg  the  suffix  make  indicates  some 
other  place,  or  thing;  it  occurs  in  baimake,  “other  ”;  naimake 
“ them  ” ; but  I am  not  aware  that  it  acts  as  a definitely 
differentiating  suffix  in  these  or  any  other  case. 

In  Witoto  nyete  as  a suffix  negatives  what  proceeds  it,  the 
literal  meaning  of  the  word  inyete — a compound  of  ite  = 
are — being  the  equivalent  of  the  French  il  ny  en  a pas.1  As 
examples  of  its  use  we  get  figora,  “ good,”  figonyete,  “ bad  ” ; 
huchite,  “ twisted,”  huchinyete,  “ straight,”  that  is  to  say 
“ not  twisted.”  The  Boro  negative  is  ne,  as  for  instance  in 
imine,  “ good,”  nemine,  “ bad,”  i.e.  “ not  good.” 

Repetition  of  a word  literally  doubles  its  meaning,  as  in  the 
Witoto  nana,  “ all,”  and  the  Boro  paa-paa,  “ low-low,”  that 
is  to  say,  “lower”;  kame-kame,  “high-high,”  i.e.  “higher.” 

I have  said  that  the  principle  of  construction  in  both 
Boro  and  Witoto  is  that  of  the  mute’s  gesture  language,  but 
gesture  language  actually  is  almost  unknown,  non-existent, 
among  all  these  tribes.  The  hand  is  pointed  to  show 
direction,  or  to  identify  a person  or  object.  The  Indian 
beckons  with  one  hand,  but  its  movement  is  downward,  not 
upward  as  with  us.  There  is  also  a recognised  sign  to  ex- 
press desire  for  sexual  intercourse.  This  is  a mere  jest,  a 
ribald  suggestion,  as  with  boys  of  a certain  age  among  our 
lower  classes.  The  right  elbow  is  grasped  with  the  left 
hand,  the  elbow  being  so  flexed  as  to  allow  the  hand  to  point 
upwards.  It  is,  in  fact,  the  letter  Z of  the  dumb  alphabet. 

Fingers  and  toes  are  used  for  reckoning,  and  are  the  more 
needed  in  that  the  Indians’  knowledge  of  numbers  is  of  the 

1 Koch-Griinberg  transliterates  it  as  ingeta,  or  ingita  ; and  gives  mard 
for  good,  maringeta,  marinyetd,  bad  ; fartti,  fat ; fare  ingeta,  thin  {Die 
Uitdto  Indianer,  pp.  10-n). 


252 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


slightest.  But  few  can  reckon  beyond  five,  though  I once 
found  a senior  wrangler  who  counted  seventeen,  by  the 
aid  of  all  his  fingers,  all  the  toes  of  one  foot,  and  two  of  the 
other.  The  remaining  three  toes  he  covered  over,  to  show 
that  they  were  not  required  for  the  total  sum.  If  an 
Indian  wished  to  enumerate  anything  over  ten  he  would 
place  both  hands  to  his  head  and  say,  “ Like  the  hairs  of 
my  head.”  1 In  Boro  I could  only  learn  of  four  numerals, 
tiamie,  “one-half”  ; tsanere,  or  tsape,  “one”;  mieke,  “two”; 
sause,  “five.”  These  in  combination  give  tsape-mieke, 
“ three  ” ; mieke-mieke,  “ four.”  The  Witoto  numerals  are 
dahe,  “ one  ” ; mena,  “ two  ” ; dahe-amene — equivalent  to  the 
Boro  tsape-mieke, — “ three  ”;  menahere,  “ four  ” ; dapekwiro, 
“five” — that  is  one  hand;  nagapekwiro,  “six.” 

It  makes  absolutely  no  difference  to  the  value  whether 
you  say  tsape-mieke  or  mieke-tsape  ; dahe-amene  or  mena- 
dahe. 

For  measures  these  tribes  have  nothing  more  definite 
than  a handful,  a foot-  or  finger-length,  and  of  weights  they 
possess  no  knowledge  whatever,  nor,  so  far  as  I am  aware 
from  their  customs  or  their  language,  is  there  any  conscious- 
ness of  more  possible  or  desirably-accurate  definition. 

To  express  a length  of  time  other  than  the  merely  im- 
mediate past,  present,  and  future,  the  Indian  makes 
use  of  what  conveys  to  him  an  indefinable  idea,  “ As  long 
as  the  hairs  of  my  head.”  This  is  similar  to  his  notion  of 
expressing  any  large  number.  He  reckons  time  by  the 
moon  to  the  extent  of  saying,  “ When  the  moon  is  small,” 
or,  pointing  to  it,  “ As  it  is  now,”  but  I never  heard  any- 
thing like  “ so  many  moons,”  or  an  equivalent  value  in  a 
word.  In  fact,  time  to  the  Boro,  so  far  as  I am  aware,  is  dis- 
tinguished by  only  pekare,  “to-morrow,”  aiupe,  “ yesterday.” 
The  Witoto  will  speak  of  beiruito,  “ to-day  ” ; wiremoni,  to- 
morrow ” ; dawire,  “ the  day  after  to-morrow,”  or  nawire, 
“ yesterday  ” ; beinawire,  “ the  day  before  yesterday,”  or 
beinawife,  “ the  night  before  last.” 

1 Orton  stated  that  the  Zaparo  “ have  no  words  for  numbers  above 
three,  but  show  their  fingers  ’’  (Orton,  p.  170).  Simson  gives  words  for  four 
and  five  as  in  use  among  those  tribes,  and  after  that  manumi,  meaning 
“ many-many  ” (Simson,  p.  179). 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


253 


There  is,  as  I have  already  mentioned,  no  writing,  not 
even  the  most  primitive  picture-writing.  The  Indian  makes 
use  of  no  signs  as  aids  to  memory  ; and  the  only  recognised 
symbol  that  I met  with — other  than  such  symbolic  prac- 
tices as  the  presentation  of  wood  and  thatch  by  the  bride- 
groom to  his  parents-in-law — was  the  tobacco  folded  in  a 
strip  of  palm  leaf  that  is  the  regular  invitation  card  of 
North  - Western  Amazonia  when  festivities  are  toward. 
Neither  individuals  nor  families  have  any  recognised  name- 
marks — such  as  a peculiar  notch  or  number  of  notches — to 
distinguish  personal  property.  It  must  be  remembered  that 
in  the  small  private  habitations  in  the  bush  a man  and  his 
wife  and  children  are  more  or  less  isolated,  and  that  in  the 
great  tribal  house  the  family  community  have  most  of  their 
possessions  in  common.  It  is  difficult  with  so  communal 
a people  to  know  what  may  be  looked  upon  as  general 
property,  and  what  as  individual,  with  the  exception  of 
personal  ornaments.  Indians  recognise  their  property  only 
by  differential  qualities,  certain  ornamentation,  ways  of 
binding  or  lashing,  patterns  in  basketry,  colouring — and 
division  of  colours — on  pottery  ; and  these  differences  are 
known  and  recognised  by  others,  as  well  as  by  the  actual 
owners. 

Each  tribe  has  its  peculiar  call  or  signal,  which  I believe 
is  altered  occasionally  as  a precautionary  measure.  This 
may  be  a whistle,  or  the  imitation  of  the  cry  of  bird  or  beast. 
Then  there  is  the  so-called  drum-language  used  in  signal- 
ling, and  already  noted  in  a previous  chapter,  which  I 
certainly  believe  to  be  some  sort  of  code.  Brown’s  assertion 
that  the  sound  of  the  word  is  made  with  the  drum,  and  the 
Indians’  description  of  making  the  words  is,  I take  it, 
merely  the  untaught  intelligence  striving  to  explain  how 
an  onomatopoeic  language  — such  as  Boro  and  Witoto  to 
some  extent  certainly  are — can  be  further  conventionalised 
to  a scope  even  more  circumscribed  than  the  ordinary 
monotone  of  the  Indian’s  speaking  voice. 

Not  only  is  the  Indian  voice  monotonous,  but  the  con- 
versation is  rendered  yet  duller  by  the  invariable  repetition 
of  the  last  words  of  a sentence.  This  is  particularly  the  case 


254 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


with  the  Tuyuka,  where  conversation  has  a definitely  cere- 
monial form.  For  instance,  if  a man  leaves  a party  to 
bathe,  he  says,  “I  go  to  take  a bath,”  and  the  company 
present  reply  in  chorus,  “ You  go  to  take  a bath.” 
On  his  return  the  formula  runs,  “ I have  taken  a bath,” 
and  the  confirmative  echo  follows,  “ Yes,  you  have 
taken  a bath.”  This  endless  repetition,  as  was  noticed 
with  regard  to  songs,  is  characteristic  of  all  Indians. 

In  quality  their  voices  are  strident  and  rasping,  and  are 
always  raised  in  conversation  and  grow  higher  with  increased 
excitement.  No  Indian  speaks  confidentially,  he  shouts;  and 
unless  something  very  sacred  and  secret  is  under  discussion 
the  conversation  in  an  Indian  house  can  be  heard  a mile 
away.  In  the  forest  the  mass  of  vegetation  above  appears 
to  act  as  a sounding-board,  and  so  to  lengthen  the  distance 
that  sound  is  carried,  not,  as  one  might  think,  to  stifle  it. 
But  independent  of  this  the  Indians  possess  extraordinary 
power  of  throwing  the  voice,  a sort  of  ventral  whisper  ; and 
all,  to  some  extent,  are  ventriloquists.  Even  semi-civilised 
Indians  of  Brazil,  who  have  lost  much  of  the  cunning 
of  their  brethren,  the  “ Wild  Indians  ” of  the  forest,  have 
this  power. 

The  Indian  is  as  fond  of  speaking  and  singing  in  a high- 
pitched  voice  interspersed  with  ventral  grunts  as  a Chinese 
coolie,  and  this  predilection,  as  regards  the  falsetto  voice, 
is  greatest  on  the  part  of  the  women,  whose  voices  are 
always  higher  than  the  men’s. 

When  an  Indian  talks  he  sits  down,  no  conversation  is 
ever  carried  on  when  the  speakers  are  standing  unless  it  be 
a serious  difference  of  opinion  is  under  discussion  ; nor, 
when  he  speaks,  does  the  Indian  look  at  the  person  ad- 
dressed, any  more  than  the  latter  watches  the  speaker. 
Both  look  at  some  outside  objects.  This  is  the  atti- 
tude also  of  the  Indian  when  addressing  more  than  one 
listener,  so  that  he  appears  to  be  talking  to  some  one 
not  visibly  present. 


CHAPTER  XX 


No  individualism — Effect  of  isolation — Extreme  reserve  of  Indians — Cruelty 
— Dislike  and  fear  of  strangers — Indian  hospitality — Treachery — Theft 
punished  by  death — Dualism  of  ethics — Vengeance — Moral  sense 
and  custom— Modesty  of  the  women — Jealousy  of  the  men — Hatred  of 
white  man — Ingratitude — Curiosity — Indians  retarded  but  not  de- 
generate— No  evidence  of  reversion  from  higher  culture — A neolithic 
people — Conclusion . 


We  find  in  all  savage  races,  peoples  of  the  lower  cultures, 
that  there  is  no  differentiation  of  individualism,  that  is  to 
say  all  members  of  the  race  or  group  are  at  approximately 
the  same  level.  This  is  what  we  know  as  a “ low  state  of 
civilisation.”  It  has  been  suggested  that  such  dead  level, 
the  lack  of  all  initiative,  of  progress  in  short,  is  due  to 
the  absence  of  religion,  of  ideals  or  gods,  through  which 
true  enthusiasm  only  is  engendered.  A religious  ideal  un- 
doubtedly tends  to  progress,  and  with  the  exception  of 
patriotism — which,  after  all,  is  a religious  ideal— is  the  main 
influence.  It  is  a case  of  cause  and  effect,  however,  for  the 
effect  of  environment  must  not  be  overlooked.  Local  con- 
ditions initiate  progress  and  may  cause  enthusiasm  for  an 
ideal,  the  effect  and,  at  the  same  time,  the  potent  accelerator 
of  such  progression. 

It  is  an  extraordinary  but  undeniable  fact  that  the 
Indian  is  individually  wise  yet  racially  foolish,  individually 
intelligent,  racially  inept.  This  may  be  due  entirely  to 
geographical  control,  to  the  peculiar  characteristics  of  the 
social  environment.  The  greatest  incitement  to  human 
progress,  intercommunication,  is  denied  in  the  Amazon 
wilds.  True,  there  are  the  rivers,  but  the  value  of  rivers  and 
waterways  in  this  respect  is  negatived  by  custom.  Existing 
conditions  make  this  necessary,  for  in  isolation  alone  is 
protection  to  be  found  for  any  tribe. 

255 


256 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


We  find,  then,  the  group  system,  where  the  community  is 
everything,  the  individual  nothing,  blocking  the  path  of  pro- 
gressive evolution  to  a very  great  extent  among  the  forest 
Indians  of  South  America,  as  it  has  done  among  the  native 
tribes  of  Australia.  The  individual  can  gain  nothing  for 
himself,  he  can  only  work  for  the  greater  glory  of  the  group, 
and  has  therefore  no  intimate  incentive  for  strenuous 
advancement.  A tribe  has  little  or  no  opportunity  for 
progress  when  it  consists  of  but  a few  hundred  members, 
and  is  practically  isolated  from  all  other  tribes,  except  for 
the  hardly  intellectual  shock  of  war,  or  perhaps  the  occasional 
intrusion  of  some  wandering  barterer,  a member  of  possibly 
a hostile  tribe,  who  is  tolerated  on  account  of  the  necessary 
articles  which  he  brings,  things  that  cannot  be  manufactured 
by  the  tribes  he  visits. 

The  Indian  is  hedged  about  with  a constricting  environ- 
ment against  which  he  can  scarcely  be  said  to  battle. 
He  accepts  with  the  resignation  of  the  East,  and  knows 
nothing  of  the  restless  rebellion  that  makes  for  Western 
amelioration  and  progress.  What  the  Indian  lacks  is  not 
intelligence  but  character,  that  is  to  say  will  - power. 
The  Indian  is  brave,  he  endures  pain  and  privation  with 
the  greatest  stoicism,  he  can  be  doggedly  obstinate,  but 
only  in  exceptional  cases  can  he  rise  above  his  fellows 
to  anything  approaching  individuality  and  strength  of 
mind. 

The  dominant  characteristic  of  the  Indian  is  a profound 
and  nervous  reserve.  The  extreme  nervousness  of  his 
manner  is  due  undoubtedly  to  wholesale  indulgence  in  coca. 
It  affects  all  the  conditions  of  social  intercourse.  It  makes 
the  Indian  character  extraordinarily  negative.  Enthusiasm 
is  to  seek  in  Amazonia.  The  Indian  never  expresses  violent 
joy  or  fear.  A shock  is  more  likely  to  raise  a laugh  from 
him  than  a cry.  He  will  submit  to  much,  he  will  bear 
greatly,  but  it  is  easy  to  provoke  a laugh  against  even 
a fellow-tribesman.  An  Indian  will  invariably  laugh  at 
another’s  discomfiture.  But  with  a stranger  all  Indians  are 
taciturn,  and  they  will  have  little  or  nothing  to  say  to  him 
if  he  be  a white  man. 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


257 


Outside  the  narrow  limit  of  the  tribe  the  Indians  possess 
no  altruistic  feelings,  no  sympathy  with  strangers.  They 
look  upon  every  man  as  a definite,  or  at  least  a possible 
enemy.  The  gentle  Indian,  peaceful  and  loving,  is  a fiction 
of  perfervid  imaginations  only.  The  Indians  are  innately 
cruel.  They  certainly  have  no  true  kindliness  for  animals  ; 
every  animal  is  a foe,  as  I have  elsewhere  noted.  The  Maku 
children  are  especially  cruel  to  them,  but  cruelty  to  the 
dumb  brute  is  universal  among  the  tribes.  On  the  other 
hand,  intra-tribal  hospitality  is  without  end.  I have  given 
a single  biscuit  to  a boy  and  seen  him  religiously  divide  it 
into  twenty  microscopic  pieces  for  all  and  sundry.  But  they 
are  quite  improvident  so  far  as  the  morrow  is  concerned.  If 
a family  is  threatened  with  famine  the  whole  party  will  walk 
over  to  another  house,  make  themselves  at  home,  eat  and 
drink  without  the  slightest  hesitation,  without  even  craving 
invitation  so  to  do.  The  reason  is  obvious.  The  host  of 
to-day  may  be  the  guest  of  to-morrow.  I have  seen,  how- 
ever, a hunting  party  doing  their  best  to  eat  a whole  tapir, 
with  the  evident  desire  to  finish  the  feast  before  the  arrival 
of  another,  and  possibly  a less  successful,  hunting  party. 
Otherwise  division  of  spoil  is  absolutely  equal,  except  that 
the  chief  by  right  has  the  greatest  share. 

The  Indian  is  not  always  a hospitable  host  where  other 
than  his  own  tribe  or  language-group  is  concerned.  Vague 
tales  have  penetrated  even  to  his  well-guarded  ignorance  of 
the  customs  of  the  Rubber  Belt,  of  the  servitude  of  his 
fellows.  He  hates  the  white  man  and  mistrusts  him.  The 
Andoke  are  invariably  surly  in  their  attitude  towards  him. 
There  are  tribes — the  Karahone,  for  instance,  on  the  northern 
bank  of  the  Japura — who  refuse  all  attempts  whatsoever  at 
intercourse.  They  will  neither  receive  presents  nor  am- 
bassadors. If  the  explorer  persist  despite  the  rejection  of 
his  overtures  he  will  find  poisoned  stakes  sunk  in  his  path. 
He  will  be  harassed  in  all  his  doings.  When  at  length  he 
attains  to  the  tribal  head-quarters  he  will  find  a house  indeed, 
and  perhaps  food,  but  no  warriors,  no  women,  no  children. 
The  fire  will  still  be  burning  within  the  maloka,  but  the 
tribe  has  vanished,  leaving  no  track,  no  sign  of  its  where- 

s 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


258 

abouts.  The  Indian’s  “ Not  at  home  ” is  no  mere  social 
euphemism.  It  is  a demonstrated  fact. 

When  the  stranger  finds  such  silent  evidence  of  the  tribal 
attitude  toward  his  presence,  it  behoves  him  to  take  steps 
very  promptly  for  his  protection.  He  may  be  certain  that 
the  natives,  though  hidden,  are  covering  his  every  action.  If 
he,  or  one  of  his  party,  show  himself,  a flight  of  poisoned 
arrows  whistles  forth  from  the  bush.  Then  follows  a 
siege  that  tries  the  nerves  of  the  stoutest  campaigner.  The 
hidden  enemy,  the  noiseless  weapons,  menace  from  every 
tree.  It  is  almost  certain  death  to  stop  in  the  open.  Within 
the  house  is  a shelter  little  more  dependable.  The  natives 
pierce  the  thatch  with  fire- javelins,  with  tiny  spears  bearing 
blazing  tufts  of  hemp  or  cotton,  and  sooner  or  later  the  great 
structure  will  catch  fire.  There  follows  the  imposed  rush 
into  the  clearing,  and  the  quick  butchery  by  that  unseen 
but  ever-watchful  enemy. 

Later  comes  the  dance  of  triumph  and  the  feast  of 
the  victims. 

Against  such  an  enemy,  in  such  a situation,  the  resources 
of  civilisation  are  of  little  avail.  A wretched  little  dart 
steeped  in  the  tribal  war-poison  may  be  fragile  as  a reed,  but 
fired  from  the  near  shelter  of  the  bush  it  is  as  effective  as  a 
Mauser  bullet. 

When  travelling  among  these  Indians  it  is  necessary  in 
order  to  gain  their  respect  to  do  as  they  do.  I have  em- 
phasised this  throughout.  The  traveller  must  cross  the  most 
nerve-racking  bridge  without  help,  he  may  have  no  hammock 
in  which  to  be  carried.  This  is  a striking  contrast  to  what 
I have  met  with  in  parts  of  Africa,  where  to  walk  is  taken 
as  a sign  of  unimportance  ; the  man  who  does  so  cannot  in 
native  eyes  be  what  they  would  call  in  India  a “ burra 
sahib.”  I have  also  noted  that  the  student  of  life  must 
conform  in  all  things  that  may  be  with  the  customs  and 
habits  of  the  tribesmen  with  whom  he  wishes  to  associate. 
In  a land  where  fiia  is  the  supreme  law,  deviation  from 
custom  can  be  only  regarded  as  criminal. 

When  an  Indian  house  is  reached  the  chief  comes  out 
with  a party  of  his  warriors.  The  burden  of  proof  rests 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


259 


with  the  invading  European.  He  advances  to  the  chief 
with  his  interpreter,  and  must  make  declaration  of  friend- 
ship. If  the  explanation  of  his  appearance  be  accepted, 
the  Indian  laughs  and  may  slap  his  visitor  vigorously  on  the 
back,  after  the  usual  custom  of  the  native  in  South  America 
welcoming  the  stranger.  Together  they  then  proceed  to  the 
house,  and  the  chief  calls  his  woman  and  orders  food  to  be 
provided  for  the  strangers.  The  white  man  on  his  part 
tenders  whatever  he  has  brought  by  way  of  presents — beads, 
gun-cartridges,  a small-tooth  comb,  or  a knife. 

When  the  evening  meal  is  finished  the  chief  stalks  into 
the  centre  of  the  maloka,  which  has  hitherto  been  untenanted, 
like  the  arena  of  a circus  before  the  performance  begins. 
A great  fire  is  made  up,  and  about  it  the  men  of  the  tribe 
squat  on  their  haunches.  The  chief  explains  to  them  the 
presence  of  the  stranger,  and  takes  counsel  on  the  question 
of  his  entertainment.  As  he  describes  his  intentions  he  falls 
into  a rhythmic  chant,  and  his  followers  assent  with  deep- 
chested  Huhh  ! All  this  is  a lengthy  business,  but  the  tribe 
eventually  arrive  at  a common  decision.  The  chief  then 
bends  forward  to  the  tribal  tobacco  pot  that  has  been  placed 
midway  among  the  group.  Into  this  he  solemnly  dips  a 
tobacco  stick,  and  conveys  a little  of  the  liquid  to  his  tongue. 
Man  after  man  bends  forward  round  the  circle,  and  each  in 
turn  dips  his  splinter  of  wood  into  the  pot  to  notify  his  assent. 
It  is  a sign  of  tribal  agreement  as  binding  as  the  Lord 
Chancellor’s  seal  on  a document  of  state.  With  it  the 
tobacco  palaver  is  concluded  and  the  Indians  seek  their 
hammocks  for  sleep. 

The  Indian’s  treachery  is  proverbial.  I may  mention  on 
this  point  two  sayings — there  are  hundreds  similar — which 
illumine  this  phase  of  the  character  and  customs  of  the 
tribesmen.  The  Andoke  says,  relevant  to  the  Karahone, 
“ If  your  spirit  wander  (sleep)  in  the  hammock  of  a 
monkey  or  beast  Indian,  it  wanders  always.”  1 The  meaning 
is  this,  the  Karahone  appear  to  have  a real  and  exact  know- 
ledge of  virulent  poisons.  It  is  related  that  they  can 

1 The  reference  to  monkey  or  beast  is  due  to  the  fact  that  the  Karahone 
do  not  depilate  all  body  and  face  hair. 


26o 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


saturate  a hammock  with  some  narcotic  which  the  victim 
does  not  discover,  thus  ensuring  his  death  or  destruction. 
They  also  bum  fires  under  the  hammock  of  those  they  wish 
to  remove  from  the  world,  and  stifle  them  with  a narcotic 
smoke. 

Another  proverbial  remark  runs : “ If  a Karahone  give 
you  a pineapple,  beware.”  This  refers  to  the  Karahone’s 
playful  habit  of  presenting  poisoned  pines.  The  Boro  have 
a similar  saying : “ Take  a pine  from  an  enemy  and  die,” 
but  this  is  due  to  the  recognition  of  the  fact  that  an  Indian 
is  never  so  dangerous  as  when  simulating  hospitality  that 
is  treacherous  in  the  extreme. 

Perhaps  the  Indian  trait  that  soonest  strikes,  and  most 
indelibly  impresses  the  observer,  is  his  charming  altruism 
in  the  community  of  the  family  or  tribal  group,  his  wild 
misanthropy  towards  other  tribes.  His  ambition  is  to  live 
undisturbed  with  his  family  in  the  deep  recesses  of  the 
forest.  He  asks  only  to  be  let  alone. 

In  a region  where  land  is  free  for  all  to  take  who  will, 
and  personal  belongings  are  few — and  invariably  buried 
with  the  owner — laws  of  inheritance  there  can  be  none.  But 
the  law  of  possession  is  strict,  and  the  penalty  is  death. 
There  can  be  no  toleration  of  theft,  as  on  account  of  the 
publicity  in  which  the  Indians  live  it  may  be  effected  with 
such  ease.  The  punishment  for  theft  has  therefore  to  be 
drastic,  final.  The  victim  may  kill  the  thief.  I was  told 
that  this  is  done  by  hacking  at  the  culprit’s  head  with  a 
wooden  sword  or  a stone  axe.  This  savours  of  ceremonial 
sacrifice.  But  though  to  steal  from  a member  of  the  tribe 
is  to  steal  from  the  whole  community  and  therefore  a crime, 
there  is  no  bar  against  stealing  from  the  stranger.  They 
will  do  so  unblushingly.  I remember  once  missing  a pair 
of  scissors.  On  searching  I discovered  a Witoto  woman 
stealing  them.  But  she  swore  she  had  never  put  them  in 
her  basket,  though  they  were  found  there  ! 

There  is  very  distinctly  a dualism  of  ethics,  one  law  for 
the  tribe,  and  another  law  for  all  who  are  not  members  of  it. 
To  kill  a fellow-tribesman  is  to  injure  the  tribe  by  destroying 
one  of  its  units.  Sin  against  the  individual  is  of  no  import- 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


261 

ance  except  in  so  far  as  injury  to  any  one  person  is  injury 
to  a unit  of  the  tribe,  to  be  punished  by  the  law  of  retaliation 
in  kind  if  the  offender  be  of  another  tribe.  Sin  against 
another  tribe  is  no  sin  except  in  the  eyes  of  the  tribe  sinned 
against ; then  for  its  members  it  becomes  not  the  sin  of  the 
individual  doer  but  of  his  whole  community.  It  is  the 
tribe  and  not  the  individual  that  would  be  held  guilty  for 
any  offence  committed  by  one  of  its  members.  For  instance 
if  a Boro  killed  a Menimehe,  vengeance  may  be  taken  by 
the  dead  man’s  tribe  on  all  or  any  of  the  members  of  the 
Boro  tribe  concerned. 

Vengeance  is  primarily  a matter  for  the  individual  princi- 
pally affected.  A man  considers  it  a disgraceful  thing  not 
to  be  able  to  avenge  himself,  and  will  therefore  never 
apply  to  the  chief  for  tribal  help.  On  the  other  hand  the 
chief  and  the  tribe  will  sometimes  take  up  a quarrel  and 
make  it  their  own.  This  is  a common  custom  amongst  small 
communities,  an  affront  to  any  one  of  the  community  being 
a personal  attack  upon  every  other  member,  though  it  is  not 
necessarily  avenged  by  all  unless  the  affronted  one  is  him- 
self unable  to  compass  revenge. 

Members  of  a tribe  sometimes  quarrel,  though  rarely,  but 
at  times  a fight  commences  in  which  others  join,  till  eventu- 
ally it  becomes  a "set  to  ” between  two  families.  On  the 
whole  I am  inclined  to  say  that  the  natives  of  the  Amazons 
are  the  least  quarrelsome  people  I have  ever  met. 

It  would  be  wrong  to  state  that  these  people  have  no 
moral  sense,  because  a slavish  adherence  to  custom  in  itself 
is  moral.  That  is  to  say  they  possess  a moral  code.  How- 
ever that  does  not  entail  any  right  or  wrong  as  we  know  it, 
but  only  pia,  that  is  “ what  our  forefathers  thought  and  did,” 
in  other  words  tribal  usage,  which  may  be  translated  by 
what  we  call  " good  form.”  There  are  no  words  in  the 
Indian  tongues  for  virtue,  justice,  humanity,  vice,  injustice  or 
cruelty.  These  are  unknown  to  the  tribes  who  differentiate 
only  with  the  equivalents  for  good  and  bad.  Points  like 
this  earmark  the  ethics  of  a people.  The  curious  negative 
character  I have  already  noted  is  carried  out  here  also. 
Again  there  is  recognition  of  the  moral  law  of  conjugal 


262 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


fidelity  in  that  there  is  definite  punishment  for  infidelity — 
the  ordeal  of  the  stinging  ants.  Punishment  infers  trans- 
gression of  a law  or  code.  It  is  not  sufficient  to  say  that  in 
this  case  it  is  due  to  the  extraordinary  jealousy  of  Indian 
husbands,  for  the  penalty  is  imposed  on  both  husband  and 
wife,  the  retribution  is  due  to  public  opinion  not  personal 
revenge.  Before  marriage  the  men  take  the  tribal  prosti- 
tutes— the  Maku  girls  and  to  some  extent  the  unattached 
women — openly,  but  after  marriage  this  is  not  the  case. 
Incest  is  unknown  among  them,  and  in  that  term  I include 
promiscuous  intercourse  among  any  of  the  members  of  a 
household.  The  antipathy  to  this  lies  only  between  those 
living  under  the  same  roof,  it  does  not  extend  to  consan- 
guineous individuals  who  are  members  of  different  house- 
holds. 

The  women  are  extraordinarily  modest  in  their  behaviour. 
Their  eyes  rarely  leave  the  ground  in  the  presence  of  a 
stranger.  I had  one  woman  in  my  party  who  never  spoke 
to  me,  or  even  looked  in  my  direction,  the  whole  time  we  were 
together.  After  much  dancing,  I have  seen  the  women, 
succumbing  to  dance  stimulation,  show  their  preference  for 
certain  men  in  the  dancing  party  by  placing  their  hands  on 
their  shoulders,  an  act  in  obedience  to  the  impulse  of  the 
moment.  In  fact  after  dancing  for  a length  of  time  they 
become  comparatively  boisterous  and  irresponsible.  But 
even  at  the  height  of  excitement  there  is  nothing  markedly 
rude  in  the  dance,  when  one  allows  for  the  fact  that  sexual 
suggestion  is  not  to  be  included  in  that  category  in  Indian 
ethics.  Even  on  this  point  they  have  their  limitations,  for 
Koch-Griinberg  relates  that  when  talking  to  some  Desana 
Indians  on  sexual  subjects,  the  conversation  was  stopped  by 
them  till  the  women  were  sent  away.  After  their  departure 
the  men  talked  freely  and  broadly.  This  I did  not  remark 
among  the  Indians  I visited,  in  fact  sexual  matters  appeared 
to  be  discussed  freely  and  lewdly  by  both  sexes,  and  even  by 
young  children. 

The  Indians  under  the  range  of  discussion  most  certainly 
possess  the  greatest  racial  antipathy  towards  the  white  man. 
This  is  noticeable  among  the  women  especially,  for  they  will 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS  263 

never  admit  to  their  own  people  if  they  have  ever  had  any 
dealing  or  connection  whatsoever  with  the  white  man. 

Gratitude  among  Indians  is  unknown — at  least  to  me. 
Take  this  example : I had  Indians  who  had  been  slaves, 
who  had  elected  to  come  with  me,  or  at  least  had  evinced 
no  repugnance  at  the  idea,  with  whom  I had  shared  all  the 
food  at  my  disposal,  stinting  myself  often  to  ensure  their 
gratitude — as  I thought — caring  for  them,  doctoring  and 
curing  them  when  sick,  till  eventually  I became  fond  of 
them.  But  on  the  main  river  at  the  first  opportunity  they 
ran,  apparently  at  the  suggestion  of  one  of  their  own  tribe, 
the  Peon  of  a rubber  - gatherer.  What  arguments  were 
used  I know  not — perhaps  that  I was  a devil,  that  my  real 
motive  was  to  fatten  them  for  culinary  purposes.  The 
fact  remains  they  left  me,  to  all  appearances,  willingly. 

This  stealing  of  Indians  is  a well-recognised  source  of 
amusement  on  the  Amazon  river,  and  the  victims  of  such 
loss — who  of  course  perpetrate  the  same  sort  of  outrage  on 
others  directly  opportunity  permits — are  so  indolent,  so 
lethargic,  that  they  will  not  cross  a river  to  recover  the 
stolen.  The  custom  is  the  more  prevalent  on  account  of 
the  character  of  the  Indian.  He  will  always  leave  one 
white  man  to  go  to  another.  He  is  always  on  the  alert  to 
run,  to  go  elsewhere.  This  is  true  of  Indians  enslaved  by 
other  Indians,  to  a limited  extent.  Unless  they  are  well 
treated  and  identified  with  the  tribe  they  will  run,  only  to 
be  again  enslaved  by  others,  or  put  to  death.  The  matter 
is  hard  to  explain.  It  simply  is  in  the  blood.  It  is  Pia, 
as  Brown  remarked.  It  is  their  custom.  They  do  it 
“ just  for  so.” 

Another  point  about  the  Indian  is  that  he  must  always 
be  kept  up  to  the  work  in  hand.  The  women  toil  unceas- 
ingly, but  the  men  are  only  too  ready  to  seize  any  excuse 
to  cry  off  a job.  They  spend  their  time  mainly  in  mooning 
around.  Obtaining  food  is  their  chief  occupation.  But 
when  an  Indian  is  kept  up  to  his  work  he  works  hard  and 
well. 

Though  the  Indian  attitude  at  first  is  invariably  stoical 
they  are  not  lacking  in  inquisitiveness.  Their  curiosity  was 


264 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


enormously  aroused  by  many  of  my  possessions.  It  is  hard 
to  say  what  will  evoke  their  wonder.  I have  seen  an  Indian 
evince  no  interest  in  a steam-boat,  but  show  the  most  ex- 
traordinary interest  in  my  jackboots,  and  be  greatly  occupied 
with  the  problem  of  how  I got  into  them.  A walking-stick 
was  an  unanswerable  conundrum  to  them,  it  never  occurred 
to  their  minds  that  I could  use  it  as  an  assistance  in  walking. 
My  eyeglass,  my  camera,  were  mysterious  devils  that  could 
read  into  their  hearts  and  filch  their  souls,  as  I have  already 
noted.  My  watch,  with  an  alarm  to  it,  struck  consternation 
to  their  simple  minds.  My  phonograph,  that  reproduced 
records  of  dancing  which  were  repeated  on  reversal,  raised 
shouts  of  wonder.  An  Indian  in  a down-river  town  saw 
nothing  to  excite  him  in  a tram,  and  took  a ride  thereon 
quite  unconcernedly,  but  the  women’s  hats  were  exciting, 
and  at  the  sight  of  a man  on  a bicycle  his  astonishment 
was  unbounded  : it  was  “ man  on  spider-web  ! ” Horses 
are  unknown  in  these  regions,  and  there  is  no  possibility  of 
the  majority  of  the  Indians  seeing  any  one  on  horseback.  I 
could  only  get  a mule  as  far  as  the  first  big  river,  but  beyond 
the  bush  became  too  dense.  Otherwise  I fancy  their  amaze- 
ment would  equal  that  of  the  Australian  natives  when  they 
saw  the  beast  come  in  two  on  the  man  dismounting.1 

Decadent  the  Indian  may  be,  and  thanks  mainly  to  his 
inveterate  cocainism  he  undoubtedly  is,  but  that  he  is  the 
degraded  descendant  of  a higher  race  is  a theory  that  I beg 
leave  to  doubt  entirely.  According  to  von  Martius  the 
standard  of  ethics  rises  or  falls  with  the  increase  or  decrease 
of  a tribe.  He  based  his  theory  on  the  fact  that  the  most 
corrupt  Coeruna  and  Nainuma  were  nearly  extinct.  It  is 
possible  to  argue  that  they  wTere  dying  out  because  they 
were  corrupt,2  rather  than  they  were  corrupt  because  they 
were  dying  out.  Sir  Roger  Casement  appears  to  have 
accepted  the  theory  expounded  in  V ergangenheit  und 
Zukunft  der  amerikanischen  Menschheit.  But  Tylor  re- 
marks, “ I cannot  but  think  that  Dr.  Martius'  deduction  is 
the  absolute  reverse  of  the  truth.”  Certainly  the  theory 

1 Spencer  and  Gillen,  Across  Australia,  ii. 

2 Cf.  Ratzel,  ii.  125. 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


265 


of  the  Indians’  regression  is,  I consider,  entirely  erroneous. 
I see  nothing  to  suggest  it.  On  the  contrary  it  appeared 
to  me  that  in  spite  of  the  awful  handicap  of  their  environ- 
ment, these  tribes  were  slowly  evolving  a higher  standard 
of  culture.  There  is  no  evidence  of  their  having  reverted 
from  a higher  culture.  A people  who  once  knew  how  to 
produce  fire  by  friction  do  not  easily  forget  that  method  to 
rely  on  the  clumsy  processes  of  fire-carrying.  Men  who  have 
smoked  tobacco  are  not  very  likely  to  content  themselves, 
nor  would  their  offspring  be  contented,  with  merely  sucking 
it.  People  who  knew  the  simple  method  of  preparing  yam 
with  a spindle  would  only  revert  in  exceptional  cases  to  the 
slow  and  even  painful  process  of  rolling  fibre  on  the  naked 
thigh,  and  that  in  a land  where  cotton  is  abundantly  to 
hand  on  every  side.  The  tedious  method  of  plaiting  and 
tying  by  hand  would  hardly,  one  imagines,  be  substituted 
for  weaving.  A race  that  has  once  worked  metal  and 
relapsed  to  the  use  of  stone  without  even  more  exceptional 
and  definite  reasons  for  that  relapse,  is  no  more  likely  in  fact 
than  it  is  recorded — so  far  as  I am  aware — in  history. 

Examples  are  known  of  peoples  who  have  forgotten  one 
useful  art,  for  material  and  utilitarian,  or  social,  or  magico- 
religious  reasons  ; but  a people  who  have  allowed  some  half 
dozen  to  disappear  is  unknown  to  me.  Yet  these  Indians 
carry  fire,  lick  tobacco,  roll  fibre  on  the  thigh,  and  though 
they  make  use  of  an  embryo  loom — the  two  posts  between 
which  their  hammocks  are  plaited — have  not  appreciated 
its  potentialities.  Some  of  the  Amazon  tribes,1  though 
surrounded  by  canoe-building  peoples,  can  only  make  rafts  ; 
the  secret  of  the  dug-out,  if  ever  known  to  them,2  has  been 
forgotten.  But  it  is  possible  that  an  isolated  section  of  the 
original  canoe-builders — as  we  have  seen  these  tribes  to- 
day are  all  isolated  sections — may  for  some  reason  have  had 
no  need  to  construct  a canoe  for  such  lengths  of  time  that 
the  method  of  fire-heating  and  burning,  especially  of  forcing 
the  hot  trunk  open,  had  through  disuse  been  at  least  partially 

1 For  example  the  Maca.the  Guaharibo,  and  the  Guahibo  (Spruce,  i.  477). 

2 Vide  Chap.  VI.  p.  101,  where  it  is  stated  that  the  dug-out  is  not  the 
autochthonic  boat  of  this  country. 


266 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


forgotten.1  Presume  that  they  failed  in  their  attempt  to 
build  one  for  some  reason,2  and  it  was  found  that  a raft 
would  do  momentarily  in  its  place,  the  original  skill  and 
knowledge  might  easily  die  out  in  a generation.  Therefore 
the  absence  of  canoes  alone  would  be  no  convincing  argu- 
ment. Nor  must  it  be  forgotten,  as  Dr.  Rivers  has  pointed 
out,3  that  other  causes  besides  defective  memory  and  lack 
of  practice  may  result  in  the  entire  disappearance  of  even 
useful  arts.  But  I repeat  hardly  of  so  many  among  all  these 
tribes  in  common. 

Everything  points  to  the  conclusion  that  these  tribes 
found  their  way  to  the  forest  in  a very  primitive  condition. 
The  forest  has  arrested,  it  has  stunted  their  growth,  but  it 
has  not  plunged  them  back  from  later  cultures  to  the  Stone 
Age.  The  stones  themselves  deny  it,  for  stone  is  not  the 
natural  substitute  for  iron  in  these  regions .4  Whence  the  tribes 
came  hither,  and  when,  in  whatsoever  far  back  age  of  our 
earth’s  story,  they  were  a Neolithic  people — hardly  that,  a 
people  emerging  from  the  unsettled  conditions  of  the  Paleo- 
lithic hunter,  agricultural  but  not  yet  pastoral,  and  such 
they  have  remained  throughout  the  centuries. 

1 These  canoes,  it  must  be  remembered,  are  not  affairs  of  everyday 
manufacture.  They  are  tribal  possessions,  not  many  in  number,  and 
needing  time,  skill,  and,  above  all,  experience,  to  make  successfully. 

2 For  instance  the  wrong  wood  might  have  been  chosen  ; some  trees 
will  not  open  when  heated  (cf.  Andre,  pp.  241-2). 

3 The  Decadence  of  Useful  Arts. 

4 There  are  no  stones  in  this  region  it  should  be  remembered. 


APPENDICES 


APPENDIX  I 


PHYSICAL  CHARACTERISTICS 

Physically,  as  may  be  judged  from  the  accompanying  tables, 
there  is  a wide  margin  for  dissimilarity  among  these  tribes. 
Their  appearance  is  nearly  as  varied  as  their  speech,  more  so  in 
fact,  in  that  there  is  much  diversity  of  type  even  among  indi- 
viduals of  the  same  speaking-group.  I have  seen  a Boro  as  dark 
as  a Witoto,  while  his  fellow  - tribesmen  may  be  yellow  as  a 
Chinaman.  It  is,  of  course,  possible  that  the  darker  Boro  are 
sons  of  Witoto  women.  The  custom  prevalent  in  all  the  tribes 
of  adopting  the  young  children  captured  from  their  enemies, 
makes  of  necessity  for  great  changes  in  type  even  in  one  house- 
hold, so  that  despite  the  preference  for  group  endogamy  that 
undoubtedly  exists  there  are  few  households  where  cross-breeding 
is  not  in  evidence. 

In  stature  the  Indian  is  small,  which  I take  to  be  a result  of 
depression  due  to  his  forest  environment ; but  the  body  is  well- 
balanced  and  upright.  Among  the  tribes  I visited  the  Andoke 
as  a speaking-group  were,  so  far  as  I could  observe,  the  largest 
in  build  and  the  tallest.  The  Okaina  may  possibly  come  into 
the  same  scale.  The  Karahone  represent  the  mean,  while  the 
Maku  are  invariably  small,  a low  class  and  badly-fed  people. 
The  average  measurements  of  the  tribes  are  best  gathered  from 
the  types  tabulated.  I made  the  average  height  to  be  for  men 
5 feet  6 inches ; and  for  women  4 feet  10  inches.1  I certainly 
remember  one  case  of  a man  among  the  Andoke  nearly  6 feet 
high,  but  can  recall  no  other.  The  women  were  never  much 
over  the  average  of  the  female  type.  I give  my  measurements 
for  what  they  are  worth,  but  unfortunately  I did  not  know  the 
correct  way  in  which  they  should  have  been  taken  ; they  were 

1 Wallace  gives  5 feet  9 inches  or  5 feet  10  inches  as  not  uncommon  for 
the  height  of  a Uaupes  man  (Wallace,  pp.  335,  353),  and  the  Isanna  as  very 
similar.  The  Bugre  are  shorter,  5 feet  4 inches,  and  misshapen  in  the  leg 
(Oakenfull,  p.  33).  The  Tukana,  160  to  170  centimetres  (Koch-Griinberg). 

269 


270 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


made  with  a centimetre  rule,  but  not  on  the  correct  anthropo- 
metrical  principles.  The  Indians  stood  against  the  side  of  the 
house  to  be  measured,  and  I registered  their  height  by  the  simple 
process  of  placing  the  ruler  on  the  head  and  measuring  its  dis- 
tance from  the  ground.1 

The  bone  of  the  Indian’s  skull  is  thick,  and  both  dolicho- 
cephalic and  brachycephalic  types  are  in  evidence.2 

The  Indian  does  not  run  to  fat,  rather  is  he  inclined  to  be 
thin,  but  strong,  muscular  and  healthy,  with  rounded  outline  and 
finely-developed  chest.  The  Witoto,  however,  though  broad  and 
strong,  fail  in  the  limbs,  their  legs  especially  lack  development. 
On  this  point  my  observations  tally  with  Robuchon’s  notes.  The 
Tukana  have  a magnificent  physique.  The  Andoke,  though  some 
are  tall,  with  large  frames,  as  a group  incline  more  to  breadth  of 
both  face  and  figure.  The  tribes  of  the  Tikie  are  of  a low  grade. 

The  Indians  as  a rule,  have  hands  of  an  average  size,  with 
stumpy  fingers,  and  short,  spatulate  nails.  Constant  manual 
labour  of  some  sort  would  seem  to  keep  the  nails  naturally  of  a 
normal  length.  I never  remember  seeing  an  Indian  pare  his 
nails,  but  fear  this  is  a point  that  may  have  escaped  my  observa- 
tion. The  men’s  arms  are  frequently  distorted,  and  the  shoulders 
gain  an  artificial  breadth  by  the  use  of  ligatures  to  swell  the 
muscles  of  the  upper  arm  by  means  of  constriction. 

; The  natural  symmetry  of  the  Indian’s  person  is  further 
enhanced  by  slight  hips,  flat  buttocks.  The  abdomen  seldom 
protrudes  though  the  navel  is  prominent,  but  not  to  the  same 
extent  as  is  found  among  negroes. 

The  men  generally  have  large  feet,3  with  long  toes.  Both 
men  and  women  have  very  prehensile  toes,  and  will  pick  up 
objects  off  the  ground  with  their  feet  rather  than  trouble  to 
stoop.  They  are  flat-footed. 

The  Indian  does  not  extend  his  legs  when  he  walks,  as  Euro- 
peans do.  He  moves  rather  with  the  action  of  an  unathletic 
woman.  His  step  is  on  an  average  about  two -thirds  of  an 
ordinary  man’s  thirty-inch  pace.  The  foot  is  of  necessity  raised 
well  above  the  ground,  on  account  of  the  lianas  which  would  trip 
the  slovenly  walker.  This  does  not  make  for  rapid  progression. 
But  though  he  walks  more  slowly  than  the  white  man,  the  Indian 

1 I had  no  calipers,  and  the  breadth  in  all  cases  is  approximate  only, 
taken  from  point  to  point  where  it  was  individually  greatest,  not  where, 
as  I subsequently  discovered,  scientific  measurement  decrees. 

2 Tukuya,  two  types  dolichocephalic.  Koch-Griinberg.  Napo,  brachy- 
cephalic (Orton,  p.  166).  According  to  Orton  the  “long-headed  hordes” 
came  from  the  south  (Orton,  p.  316). 

3 Bates  noted  that  the  Tapuyo  have  "small  hands  and  feet  " (i.  78),  and 
Orton  mentions  it  as  a characteristic  of  races  of  Tupi  origin  (Orton,  p.  316). 


PLATE  LI, 


WITOTO  TYPES.  3.  WITOTO  FROM  KOTUE  RIVER 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


271 


can  keep  up  a jog-trot  of  about  five  miles  an  hour  for  tremendous 
distances.  Moreover  his  wind  is  far  better  than  any  white  man’s. 
At  a push,  to  get  away  from  hostile  neighbours  for  example,  he 
is  capable  of  going  sixty  miles  a day.  In  ordinary  circumstances 
he  walks  nowhere,  except  about  the  house  and  compounds. 
Consequently  he  has  developed  a different  set  of  muscles  from 
the  ordinary  pedestrian. 

As  the  Boro  are  more  harassed  than  the  Witoto  they  march 
as  a rule  in  silence,  while  the  Witoto  are  noisy  generally ; but 
a march  in  country  that  might  prove  hostile  is  done  in 
silence  by  every  tribe  for  obvious  reasons.  In  friendly  country 
the  Indians  go  along  chattering  and  joking,  or  in  silence,  just  as 
the  spirit  moves  them  : there  is  no  rule.  The  necessity  for 
walking  in  single  file,  and  the  invariable  difficulties  of  the  route, 
do  not,  however,  altogether  encourage  conversation.  These  re- 
stricted paths  have  a further  influence  upon  the  Indian.  Often 
enough  it  is  necessary  to  place  one  foot  directly  in  front  of  the 
other  in  order  to  find  any  footway  at  all.  This  is  the  probable 
reason,  or  one  of  the  reasons,  why  the  men  walk  with  a straight 
foot,  a specially  needed  precaution  on  the  narrow  bridges,  that 
are  merely  formed  of  single  trees.  The  women  walk  in  rather 
a stilted  fashion,  with  the  toes  turned  inwards  at  an  angle  of 
some  thirty  degrees,  on  account  of  the  tight  ligatures  they  wear 
below  the  knee  and  above  the  ankle,  which  cause  the  calf  to 
swell  to  enormous  proportions,  as  has  been  noted.  This  may  not 
inconceivably  have  a contracting  effect  in  the  angle  of  the  foot. 
It  is  regarded  as  a sign  of  power  if  the  muscles  of  the  thighs  are 
made  to  come  in  contact  with  each  other  when  walking. 

That  the  men  run  and  jump  well  is  due  to  their  good  wind, 
but  they  have  no  pace,  and  could  easily  be  outstripped  over  a 
limited  course  by  an  average  white  man  in  good  condition.  But 
the  women  neither  run  nor  jump  with  any  facility,  as  they  all 
suffer  from  varicose  veins,  caused  by  the  ligatures  to  some  extent, 
but  also  by  the  burdens  they  carry,  and  from  labouring  in  the 
fields  when  in  a condition  unsuited  to  such  physical  exertion. 
As  weights  are  carried  on  the  back  suspended  by  a strap  across 
the  forehead,  the  tendency  to  stoop  or  grow  round-shouldered  is 
counteracted,  for  the  pull  of  the  strap  brings  the  head  back,  and 
the  strain  is  taken  by  the  muscles  of  the  neck.1  Water  is  always 
carried  in  vessels  balanced  on  the  head,  and  though  the 

1 The  women  are  muscular  in  the  neck,  and  will  carry  considerable 
weights  in  baskets  slung  on  a band  passed  round  the  forehead.  They  will 
carry  through  the  thickest  bush  as  much  as  sixty  pounds  and  more  in  the 
same  manner,  their  strength  in  lifting  and  carrying  weights  being 
confined  to  the  neck. 


272 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


Amazonian  Indian  may  not  have  the  superb  carriage  of  her 
sisters  in  the  East,  yet  the  young  girls  at  least  are  very  well  set 
up,  though  with  advancing  age  a lifetime  of  field  work  and  burden- 
bearing may  bow  the  elder  women  till  they  walk,  as  described  by 
Robuchon,  “in  an  inclined  position.” 

The  Indian  woman  has  generally  a beautiful  figure,  well 
proportioned  and  supple,  with  high,  straight  shoulders.  Untram- 
melled by  dress  she  is  graceful  and  free  in  her  actions.  Before 
marriage  the  women  have  very  small  breasts,  but  after  they 
have  borne  a child  the  breasts  develop  considerably.  Old 
women,  probably  on  account  of  poorer  nourishment,  are  very 
flat-chested,  and  one  never  sees  a woman  with  very  pendent 
breasts.  In  the  older  women  they  atrophy.1 

There  is  great  individuality  in  the  faces  of  the  Amazonian 
Indians.  A tribe  is  no  herd  of  sheep,  differentiated  only  to  the 
experienced  eye  of  the  shepherd  ; the  dissimilarities  of  coun- 
tenance are  immediately  apparent,  and  even  to  the  most  casual 
observer  Indians  show  marked  variety  of  face  and  colour  and 
feature.  Like  all  savages  the  Indians  admire  most  the  lightest 
coloured  skins.  The  divergence  of  colour  is  both  tribal  and 
racial ; and  as  a rule  it  will  be  found  that  the  higher  the  type 
the  better  the  physical  development,  and  the  greater  the  mental 
capacity,  the  lighter  will  be  the  skin.  On  account  of  the  satura- 
tion of  the  atmosphere  the  Indians  mostly  have  skins  of  a good 
texture.  I never  found  rough  skins  on  Indians  in  these  districts.2 

1 Robuchon  states  that  the  women’s  mammae  are  pyriform,  and  the 
photographs  show  distinctly  pyriform  breasts  with  digitiform  nipples.  I 
found  them  resembling  rather  the  segment  of  a sphere,  the  areola  not 
prominent,  and  the  nipples  hemispherical. 

2 Orton  and  Galt,  however,  note  that  “ one  will  sometimes  find  the 
skin  of  the  Indian  rough,  hard,  and  insensible,  like  the  skin  of  the  larger 
lower  animals  ” (Orton,  p.  591).  Skin — Colour  andTexture. — “ Je  remarque 
que  ces  Indiens,  comme  les  Roucouyennes  et  les  Oyampis,  ont  les  plis  de 
la  peau  beaucoup  plus  saillants  que  chez  les  races  blanches  et  noires.  Les 
plis  du  genou  resemblent  k une  peau  d’orange.  Je  voudrais  representer 
exactement  ces  details,  qui  m’interessent  au  point  de  vue  anthropologique, 
mais  je  trouve  la  difficulte  insurmontable.  11  me  vient  toutefois  une  idee  ; 
je  fais  barbouiller  un  Indien  avec  du  roucou  des  pieds  a la  tete,  et,  a moyen 
d’un  papier  mince  que  j ’applique  avec  la  main,  j’obtiens  tous  les  details  de 
structure.  Le  roucou  agit  comme  de  l’encre  d’imprimerie.  Avec  un  peu 
d’exercice  je  recueille  les  details  anatomiques  de  toutes  les  parties  du  corps, 
et  particuli^rement  des  pieds,  des  mains,  du  genou  et  des  coudes.  II  est 
k noter  que  la  peau  d ’enfant  k la  mamelle  presente  des  plis  aussi  accenting 
que  ceux  d’un  blanc  k l’age  adulte.  La  peau  d’un  jeune  homme  vue 
a l’oeil  me  semble  grossie  trois  fois  a la  loupe  ” (Crevaux,  p.  303).  We  have 
already  noted  that  there  Issa- Japura  tribes  are  free  from  the  skin  diseases 
that  Napo  and  other  Indians  frequently  develop.  This  probably  accounts 
for  the  contradiction  of  my  observances  with  the  notes  of  other  writers. 


PLATE  LII. 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


2 73 


Of  all  the  tribes  the  Menimehe  have  the  lightest  complexions, 
and  they  are  invariably  fatter  and  in  better  condition  than  the 
surrounding  tribal  groups. 

I have  mentioned  the  custom  of  covering  a new-born  infant 
with  rubber  milk  either  for  warmth  or  to  protect  the  skin  ; the 
women  daub  themselves  with  gum  and  a yellow  clay  because  it 
is  supposed  to  preserve  the  skin  ; but  none  of  these  peoples  use 
any  oil  for  lubricating  purposes,  and  they  are  free  from  any 
noxious-smelling  secretion.  The  smell  of  a negro  they  consider 
most  offensive,  but  do  not  extend  this  dislike  to  the  white  man. 
The  Indian  owes  his  immunity  from  this  unpleasant  trait  in 
part  because  he  does  not  perspire  at  all  freely,  perhaps  to  differ- 
ence of  glandular  secretion,  and  in  part  to  frequent  ablutions. 
Yet,  though  even  a dirty  people  like  the  Witoto  will  bathe  at 
least  three  times  a day  and  most  tribes  far  more  often,  these 
Indians,  as  has  already  been  noted,  are  by  no  means  free  of  body 
parasites.  Head  lice  may  be  said  to  be  universal,  and  in  addition 
jiggers  and  the  red  tick  that  drops  off  leaves  in  the  forest  and 
burrows  under  the  human  skin,  there  is  another  burrowing 
parasite  that  invades  the  human  body  to  lay  its  eggs,  which  is 
extremely  common  among  these  people.  One  is  apt  to  be  in- 
fested with  these  pests  merely  from  touching  an  Indian,  certainly 
by  lying  in  an  Indian  hammock.  The  parasite  causes  consider- 
able irritation,  and  the  local  remedy  is  to  apply  babasco  juice. 

Except  in  the  case  of  a medicine-man,  who  never  depilates, 
hair  is  looked  upon  as  dirt  ; therefore  it  is  always  removed,  only 
the  hair  of  the  head  being  permitted  to  grow.  Depilation  is 
usually  done  just  before  a dance.  The  method  of  removal 
adopted  is  to  cover  the  hirsute  parts  with  rubber  latex.  This  is 
allowed  to  dry,  so  that  a grip  can  be  obtained  and  the  hair  re- 
moved simply  with  the  forefinger  and  thumb  or  by  means  of 
two  small  pieces  of  cane.  Two  persons  will,  as  far  as  facial  hairs 
are  concerned,  depilate  one  another.  It  is  universally  considered 
a sign  of  cleanliness  to  remove  all  the  body  hairs,  and  even  to 
pull  out  the  eyebrows  and  eyelashes.1  That  the  eyebrows  are 
not  removed  for  aesthetic  purposes  is  proved  by  the  fact  that  the 
effect  is  promptly  reproduced  with  paint.  It  is  not  easy  to  get 
information  with  regard  to  the  removal  of  body  hair,2  but  I was 
able  to  obtain  a little  from  a Karahone  slave  boy  who  was  with 
an  Andoke  tribe  I met.  He  told  me  that  the  Karahone  did  not 
depilate  the  hair  of  the  face.  This  is  the  one  exception  among 
these  tribes. 

1 See  note  on  Depilation,  p.  282. 

2 According  to  Wallace,  though  the  Uaupes  Indians  remove  facial  or 
body  hair  the  Isanna  tribes  do  not  (Wallace,  pp.  353,  356). 

T 


274 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


On  the  authority  of  Schomburgh,  im  Thum  states  that  occa- 
sionally when  there  is  great  demonstration  of  grief  at  a burial 
“ the  survivors  crop  their  hair.”  So  far  as  my  experience  went 
none  of  the  Indians  of  the  Upper  Amazons  ever  “ crop  ” the  hair 
close,  except  that  of  young  girls  when  danger  threatens.  Should 
there  be  any  reason  to  suppose  that  some  man  is  inclined  to 
steal  a girl,  her  hair  might  be  closely  cut  as  a preventive  measure 
to  save  the  child  from  being  kidnapped,  for  a hairless  woman  is 
looked  upon  as  a social  outcast  among  the  tribes.  The  young 
Indians  have  long  hair  that  often  reaches  to  below  the  small  of 
the  back,  but  this  length  does  not  continue,  and  it  is  a varying 
quantity  among  the  adults. 

The  hair  is  uniformly  scattered  over  the  scalp,  and  is  coarse 
in  texture,  lank,  and  very  abundant.  Baldness  is  unknown, 
and  greyness,  as  with  the  negroes,  is  very  rare.  I have  only  seen 
grey  hair  on  a few  people  of  apparently  unusual  age.  In  colour 
it  is  almost  uniformly  black,  a red-  not  a blue-black,  which  gives 
it  an  occasional  brown  glint.  Some  of  the  children  are  lighter- 
haired, but  such  a variation  as  red  hair  is  unknown,  though  in 
the  sunlight  the  women’s  hair  may  take  a reddish  gleam.  Both 
women  and  children  have  finer  hair  than  the  men,  and  with 
young  children  it  is  often  quite  downy.  As  a rule  it  is  straight, 
but  among  the  Tukana  wavy  hair  is  more  evident. 

Among  the  greater  part  of  these  peoples  the  hair  is  not  cut, 
either  by  the  men  or  women.  The  Karahone  men  cut  their  hair 
to  the  shoulders  ; the  Boro  women,  and  in  some  cases  the  men, 
trim  theirs  round  very  much  as  is  often  seen  among  our  small 
girls.  Sometimes  the  Witoto  women  trim  their  lank  locks. 
This  is  done  with  a knife  if  they  have  one,  otherwise  it  is  singed. 
With  the  Menimehe  and  Karahone  it  grows  very  low  on  the 
forehead.  The  Tikie  tribes  have  most  untidy  and  ill-kept  hair. 

Owing  to  race — possibly  of  Mongoloid  origin — and  to  the 
prevalence  of  depilatory  customs,  the  men  have  scanty  beards, 
if  any. 

On  the  whole  these  Indians  hold  their  own  in  the  matter  of 
good  looks,  even  the  lowest  types  are  not  repulsive  in  appearance. 
I mean,  of  course,  to  the  eye  of  the  stranger,  not  according  to 
their  individual  standard  of  beauty.  In  feature  both  the  various 
language-groups  and  the  tribes  of  each  group  show  many  grades. 
It  may  be  taken  as  usual  that  with  a lighter  skin  the  nose  and 
lips  are  thinner  than  among  those  with  darker  colouring. 
The  Boro  and  the  Resigero,  both  comparatively  light-skinned 
groups,  have  thin  lips.  This  naturally  follows  from  what  I have 
already  said  as  to  colour  and  type,  the  higher  type  possessing, 
as  would  be  expected,  the  more  refined  features.  The  Boro, 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


275 


taken  as  a group,  are  the  best  looking,  many  of  them  are  very 
handsome,  and  some  of  the  Andoke  also  are  notably  well  favoured 
in  appearance.  “ Noble  ” is  Koch-Griinberg’s  decision  on  the 
question  of  the  Tukana  tribesmen’s  appearance.  The  Okaina, 
also,  must  be  classed  as  good  looking. 

It  seems  somewhat  of  a contradiction  after  this  to  remark 
that  a squint  is  so  common  a trait  among  these  tribes  that  one 
cannot  but  notice  immediately  any  one  with  normal  eyes.  This 
is,  however,  with  the  exception  of  the  Tukana,  very  prevalent 
among  all  these  tribes.  The  eyes  are  not  large,  and  are  deeply 
set.  They  are  black  in  colour  with  occasional  yellowness  of  the 
eyeball,  but  never  to  the  degree  seen  in  the  bilious  eye  of  the 
negro.  Both  eyesight  and  hearing  are  very  acute.  In  the  bush, 
or  in  the  dark,  the  tribesmen  have  most  penetrating  sight,  and 
can  distinguish  details  at  a glance  where  the  ordinary  white  man 
can  see  nothing  of  any  description.  In  the  sun,  or  any  strong 
light,  their  sight  is  inferior. 

It  is  difficult  to  judge  what  an  Indian’s  ears  would  be  like  if 
left  to  Nature’s  fashioning,  as  they  are  invariably  distorted  to 
more  or  less  degree  by  artificial  means.  They  are  frequently 
prominent,  and  do  not  appear  to  be  set  close  to  the  head  in  any 
case.  The  large  ear-plugs  will  pull  the  lobe  of  the  ear  half-way 
down  the  neck  and  more.  Nose-boring  is  not  carried  to  so 
disfiguring  an  extent.  The  Boro,  especially  the  women  of  those 
tribes,  bore  the  wing  of  the  nose — a custom  peculiar  to  this  people 
— as  well  as  the  septum,  which  is  also  bored  by  Muenane  and 
Witoto  women,  but  the  nose  pins  are  small,  and  do  not  distort 
the  feature  as  the  ear-plugs  do  the  ear.  The  Tukana’s  nose  has 
naturally  large  alae.  The  tribes  on  the  Tikie  also  have  broad 
noses,  with  prominent  cheek-bones,  a characteristic  noted  by 
Wallace  among  the  Kuretu.1 

The  Indian’s  chin  is  narrow,  small,  rounded,  and,  especially 
in  the  case  of  the  women,  retreating.  There  is  no  dimple 
or  cleft.  The  teeth  are  big  and  even,  and  very  rarely  found 
projecting. 

The  Indian’s  expression  is  stolid  enough  ordinarily,  but  when 
talking  he  has  much  play  of  feature,  and  he  will  gesticulate  freely 
under  the  influence  of  coca.  Among  the  tribes  to  the  south  of 
the  Japura  a man  will  look  a stranger  straight  in  the  face,  but 
north  of  that  river  the  native  has  a more  furtive  glance.  The 
Indian's  gaze  is  intense. 

They  are  never  demonstrative  of  affection,  and,  though  they 
will  touch  a white  man  as  a salutation,  never  touch  each  other. 
By  this  I mean  that  when  friendlily  disposed  an  Indian  would 
1 Wallace,  p.  354. 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


276 

return  a white  man’s  salute,  the  offer  of  the  hand,  but  no  Indian 
would  grasp  a fellow-tribesman’s  hand,  or  put  an  arm  around 
his  neck.  Kissing  is  unknown  among  these  people.  Crevaux 
records  that  he  saw  children  among  the  Calina  kiss  to  show 
affection,  but  the  nearest  approach  to  an  embrace  I ever 
witnessed  was  a slap  on  the  shoulder,  probably  under  the 
shoulder-blade,  which  is  the  salutation  between  great  friends. 
Mothers  of  course  fondle  their  children,  and  I have  even  seen  a 
woman  with  her  arm  round  her  husband,  but  such  an  exhibition 
is  considered  barely  decent.  Neither  do  they  exhibit  grief  by 
weeping.  The  girl  children  cry  occasionally,  but  no  child  ever 
screams  ; and  adults  may  whine  but  never  shed  tears. 

As  regards  brain-power,  the  Boro  group  are  the  most  intelligent, 
with  the  possible  exception  of  the  Menimehe.  I invariably  found 
the  Boro  exceedingly  anxious  to  learn  from  me  anything  they 
judged  might  be  of  utility  to  themselves.  They  evinced  a 
definitely  intelligent  interest,  not  to  be  confounded  with  the 
ordinary  curiosity  of  the  untaught.  Among  all  these  peoples 
the  power  of  mental  development  ceases  after  they  have  attained 
puberty. 

One  limitation  that  is  to  be  noticed  with  all  of  them  is  their 
inability  to  grasp  any  chronological  data.  They  have  nothing 
in  the  way  of  a tally  of  any  description,  and  in  speaking  use  the 
vaguest  expressions  only  for  reckoning.  It  is  my  opinion,  based 
on  observation  of  the  number  of  generations  still  living  at  any 
one  time,  that  these  people  live  to  an  advanced  age.  They  grow 
elderly  at  from  twenty -five  to  thirty  years,  and  may,  under 
favourable  conditions,  five  another  half-century  or  more.  This 
is  borne  out  by  the  fact  that  I found  occasionally  a man  with  grey 
hair — a sign  in  all  coloured  peoples,  and  I believe  in  Mongoloid 
peoples,  of  great  age.  But  no  Indian  can  give  any  information 
as  to  his  own  age,  or  the  age  of  his  children.  For  him  age  is 
non  est,  time  of  little  value.  He  cannot  tell  you  when  he  came 
to  the  neighbourhood  in  which  you  find  him,  though  obviously 
only  a year  or  two  may  have  been  passed  there.  His  day  is 
regulated  to  some  extent  by  the  rising  and  the  setting  of  the 
sun,  portioned  only  by  its  height  in  the  heavens.  If  but  occasion 
serve,  one  or  other  of  the  warriors,  drunk  with  coca,  will  talk  the 
whole  night  through,  excitedly  recounting  some  folk-tale,  or 
endlessly  boasting  his  feats  in  the  hunt  or  on  the  war-path. 
The  interruption  is  not  resented  by  his  comrades,  nor  does  it 
seem  to  interfere  with  their  slumber.  Indians,  in  fact,  never 
appear  to  sleep  much,  or  rather  they  sleep  little  and  often,  as 
chance  offers.  Night  is  no  more  the  time  of  repose  than  day, 
except  in  so  far  as  darkness  puts  a stop  to  certain  of  their 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


277 


avocations.  When  sleeping  on  the  ground  an  Indian  curls  up 
on  one  side  with  his  knees  to  his  chin,  or  he  sleeps  on  his 
stomach,  seldom  lying  on  the  back.1 

Though,  as  has  been  noted,  they  sleep  with  no  wrap  or  cover- 
ing, these  Indians  are  most  sensitive  to  climatic  changes.  They 
are  decidedly  susceptible  to  a difference  of  locality,  and,  more 
than  this,  in  a land  where  the  extreme  contrast  of  temperature 
is  no  more  than  twenty  degrees  throughout  the  year,  with  an 
average  of  half  that  total,  they  are  affected  by  even  slight  varia- 
tions of  temperature.  They  fear  the  cold  of  the  early  morning, 
and,  accustomed  as  they  are  to  the  half-lights  of  the  forest,  they 
dislike  sunshine,  and  prefer  to  keep  in  the  shade,  fearful  of  sun- 
sickness  if  exposed  to  the  sun. 

It  has  been  suggested  by  some  travellers  that  the  curious 
habit  of  the  Indians  of  inducing  sickness  every  morning  by  means 
of  a feather  was  based  on  the  idea  that  any  food  which  was 
retained  in  the  stomach  all  night  must  be  unwholesome  and  ought 
to  be  removed  immediately.2  I have  often  seen  the  Indians  do 
this,  but  always  put  it  down  to  a desire  to  rid  the  stomach  of  the 
non-absorbent  constituents  of  the  coca  powder,  as  only  the  men, 
who  alone  may  take  coca,  resort  to  this  practice.  The  Indian  in 
the  early  morning  drinks  an  infusion  of  herbs,  as  I have  already 
mentioned,  which  induces  the  removal  of  such  substances  by 
vomiting,  although  not  taken  primarily  for  this  purpose. 

Sickness  is  also  secured  with  the  fingers  after  a prohibitive 
quantity  of  cahuana  has  been  drunk,  as  afore  noted,  during  a big 
dance.  Having  imbibed  to  his  utmost  capacity,  the  Indian 
adopts  this  simple  expedient  to  enable  him  to  drink  again. 

The  tribes  of  the  upper  Amazons  are,  comparatively  with 
others,  very  cleanly.  But  it  is  only  comparatively.  The  Boro 
are  the  cleanest,  and  the  Witoto  unquestionably  the  most  dirty. 
Immediately  on  rising  all  Indians  resort  to  the  river,  but  except 
among  the  Boro  and  the  Resigeros,  who  rub  themselves  with 
sand,  the  performance  can  hardly  be  called  washing,  it  is  simply 
bathing.  The  Nonuya  and  Muenane  are  cleanly,  hke  the 

Resigero.  Even  the  Andoke,  though  they  use  no  sand,  are 
cleaner  than  the  Witoto,  for  this  tribe  never  wash,  and  only 
take  a dip  two  or  three  times  a day,  while  at  least  five  times  is 
the  ordinary  rule  with  the  majority.3 

1 I have  found  this  amongst  all  people  who  sleep  on  the  ground,  I take 
it,  for  obvious  buffer  reasons. 

2 Simson,  p.  93. 

3 During  menstruation  women  wash  more  frequently,  with  intent  to 
arrest  as  well  as  to  hide  their  condition.  A girl  at  such  times  will  bathe 
as  often  as  twenty  times  in  a day.  The  cold  water  acts  as  a styptic. 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


278 

The  first  duty  of  the  morning  is  a visit,  as  has  been  said,  to 
the  bathing-place.  Thither  troop  the  old  and  the  young,  both 
male  and  female,  to  wash  and  revive  in  the  water.  They  do  not 
attempt  to  rub  their  bodies  dry,  but  are  content  to  let  the  moist- 
ure evaporate  when  they  emerge  from  the  stream.  When  on  a 
march  or  out  hunting  Indians  will  always  bathe  in  any  water 
available  on  the  route.  They  go  in  streaming  with  perspiration, 
but  seem  to  suffer  no  ill-effects.  Bates  has  described  them  as 
“ taking  merely  a sitz-bath  ” like  a dog,1  but  they  seemed  to 
me  to  bathe  as  any  ordinary  person  would  who  went  into  the 
water  to  get  cool. 

After  returning  from  war  the  Indians  bathe  scrupulously 
before  they  re-enter  the  house.  It  is  in  the  nature  of  a cere- 
monial washing,  and  possibly  is  a subconscious  act  of  purifica- 
tion, though  the  Indians,  when  asked  the  reason,  told  me  only 
that  it  was  pia,  our  custom.  In  fact  lustration  with  the  Indian 
is  too  frequent  an  action  to  keep  any  ceremonial  significance  it 
may  ever  have  had. 

It  follows  as  a matter  of  course  with  people  so  familiar  with 
water  that  one  and  all  are  expert  swimmers.  The  Indian 
of  the  Amazons  invariably  swims  as  naturally  as  he  walks,  and 
with  as  little  tuition.  From  the  hour  of  his  birth  he  has  been 
conversant  with  the  river,  and  in  a climate  where  the  temperature 
of  the  water  varies  but  little  from  750  to  8o°  or  more,  he  regards 
a dip  as  his  chief  solace.  He  never  passes  a stream  without 
taking  advantage  of  its  proximity  to  bathe,  and  the  fact  that  he 
may  have  recently  fed,  or  that  he  is  perspiring  freely,  does  not 
hinder  him  from  a plunge,  and  makes  no  difference  to  his 
enjoyment. 

In  swimming  the  Indian  paddles  like  a dog,  and  does  not 
attempt  to  attain  to  anything  approaching  the  breast-stroke  of 
the  European,  nor  does  he  extend  the  legs  widely.  He  flexes  the 
legs  sharply  upon  the  trunk,  and,  suddenly  stretching  them  in  a 
straight  line,  drives  the  body  forward.  The  stroke  is  not  a tiring 
one,  and  the  native  is  capable  of  undergoing  long  immersion 
vrithout  suffering  exhaustion,  but  the  speed  he  can  acquire  is 
not  remarkable.  For  that  matter  there  are  no  reasons  why 
the  Indian  should  desire  to  make  rapid  progression.  Swimming 
to  him  is  an  adjunct  to  bathing,  or  a means  to  cross  a stream  ; 
its  finer  developments  trouble  him  not  at  all.  In  the  muddy 
rivers  of  the  Amazons  there  is  nothing  to  tempt  the  native  to 
dive,  nor  are  there  suitable  places  to  jump  off  the  banks.  The 
Indian  slips  in  as  best  suits  the  occasion,  and  does  not  aspire  to 
exhibition  feats,  or  to  water  games. 

1 Bates,  i.  200. 


PLATE  LIV. 


W1TOTO  TYPES  WITOTO  WOMAN  WITH  LEG  LIGATURES 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


279 


When  bathing  the  Indian  is  exposed  to  a certain  element  of 
danger  from  fish  that  inflict  varying  degrees  of  injury.  There  is 
the  stinging  eel,  and  skate  of  some  sort  and  another  stinging 
fish,1  the  caneiro,  and  the  piranha.  Electric  fish  are  less  common 
in  the  upper  rivers  than  in  the  main  streams,  and  I never  noticed 
one  Indian  of  the  Issa-Japura  tribes  take  any  special  precaution 
against  them,  though  elsewhere  the  natives  will  beat  and  prod 
the  water  with  rods  before  they  bathe,  to  discover,  if  possible, 
whether  any  eels  are  lurking  in  the  vicinity.  The  caneiro’s 
method  of  attack  is  by  suction,  not  shock.  They  are  very 
plentiful  in  all  these  rivers,  and  their  power  of  suction  is  most 
extraordinary.  I am  not  likely  to  forget  the  first  time  I made 
acquaintance  with  one  of  these  voracious  little  fish.  It  suddenly 
attacked,  or  rather  attached  itself  with  its  sucker-like  mouth,  to 
the  inner  side  of  my  leg.  The  sensation  was  most  alarming.  I 
made  with  all  possible  speed  to  land.  The  caneiro  certainly 
sucks  up  the  flesh  rapidly  and  painfully,  but  I am  doubtful  if 
it  really  “ tears  off  pieces  of  the  skin  and  flesh,”  as  it  is  said 
to  do.2  The  piranha,  though  quite  a small  fish,3  is  even  more 
ferocious.  It  will  attack  anything,  and  is  said  to  be  capable 
of  reducing  a large  animal  to  a skeleton  in  the  space  of  a few 
minutes.  There  is  a story,  repeated  elsewhere,  that  one  very 
small  fish  is  actually  a human  parasite.  The  Indians  aver  that 
it  will  enter  the  body  of  a man  when  bathing.  Orton  mentions 
this  fish,  which  according  to  him  is  “ a slender  silurid  fish  ( Van - 
dellia)  ” but  remarks  that  he  never  met  “ with  one  confirmatory 
case.”  4 Neither  did  I.  But  I found  that  all  Indians  take  pre- 
cautions against  it  when  bathing. 

1 Simson,  p.  234.  2 Simson,  p.  235. 

3 Four  inches  to  fourteen  inches  in  length  (Keane,  p.  551}. 

1 Orton,  pp.  482-3. 


APPENDIX  II 


MONGOLOID  ORIGIN 

On  the  vexed  question  of  original  Asiatic  extraction  what  little 
evidence  I have  to  offer  is  in  general  support  of  the  theory  that 
some  at  least  of  the  ancestral  stock  probably  found  their  way 
hither  from  Asia,  or — what  is  more  in  accordance  with  the  laws 
of  migration  as  so  far  ascertained — spread  from  the  American 
to  the  Asiatic  continent.  There  is  undeniably  a marked 
prevalence  of  what  are  recognised  as  Mongoloid  traits  among 
these  peoples.  I fully  accept  Ratzel’s  dictum,  " We  may  hold 
firmly  to  the  relationship  of  the  Americans  with  the  East 
Oceanic  branch  of  the  Mongoloid  race.” 1 To  quote  another 
writer,  “ As  Burton  remarks,  this  strain  demonstrates  itself  in 
big  round  Calmuck  skulls,  flat  faces,  with  broad,  prominent 
cheek-bones,  oblique  oriental  eyes,  rather  brown  than  black. 
They  have  also  dark  thick  eyebrows,  and  thin  moustaches 
fringing  large  mouths,  with  pointed  teeth  and  sparse  beards 
hardly  covering  the  long  pointed  chin.” 2 The  truth  of  this 
description  can  be  judged  from  the  illustrations  in  this  volume. 
The  most  casual  observer  must  notice  the  prevalence  of 
Mongoloid  facial  characteristics  prevalent  among  the  South 
American  Indians,  such  as  obliquity  of  eye,  prominent  cheek- 
bones, broad  flat  nose.  My  own  observations  led  me  to 
conclude  that  the  Mongoloid  type  was  very  pronounced  in 
individual  cases,  so  much  so  that  I estimated  at  least  one  per 
cent  to  be  of  a pure  Chinese  type,  and  my  common  name  for 
them  (vide  my  note  on  secrecy  of  individual  names,  p.  154)  was 
Chin-Chin.  I would  refer  to  such  illustrations  as  that  facing 
p.  254  in  the  second  volume  of  Spruce's  Notes  of  a Naturalist. 
(See  again  Spruce,  i.  328  ; Orton,  p.  170,  for  references  to  prevalent 
obliquity  of  eye.)  On  the  other  hand,  Bates  remarks  of  the 
Tupuyo  that  “ their  eyes  are  black  and  seldom  oblique  like  those 
of  the  Tartar  races  ” (Bates,  i.  78) ; and  Wallace  remarks,  " I 

1 Ratzel,  ii.  170.  2 Oakenfall,  p.  26. 


280 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


281 


never  could  discern  an  unusual  obliquity  of  the  eyes  ” (Wallace, 
p.  332).  I cannot  agree  with  this  statement.  The  latter, 
however,  noted  the  prominent  cheek-bone  among  the  Curetu 
(p.  354)  > and  Orton  refers  to  it  and  to  the  flat  nose  (Orton, 
p.  170). 

Further  characteristics  in  common  among  Mongoloid  peoples 
and  these  tribes  are  the  customs  of  shaving  or  depilating  facial 
hair,  and  a prolonged  period  of  suckling  the  young  ( vide 
Westermarck,  p.  484). 


APPENDIX  III 


DEPILATION 

All  tribes  south  of  the  Japura  remove  hair,  except  that  on  the 
head. 

Tukana  depilate  body  hair. 

Tuyuha  men  depilate  armpits,  not  pudenda : women  depilate 
pudenda. 

Kuretu— all  depilate. 

Purakato,  according  to  Koch-Griinberg,  do  not  depilate. 

Karahone  are  said  not  to  depilate.  This  (see  text)  is  debatable. 
I believe  that  they  pluck  out  the  hair  of  the  chin  and  whiskers, 
but  leave  eyebrows  and  moustache. 

Bara — women  only  depilate. 

Menimehe — all  depilate,  but  the  women  are  not  so  careful 
about  it  as  the  Boro. 

- Boro — all  depilate. 

- Witoto — men  more  careless,  women  depilate. 

Tuhana,  according  to  Koch-Griinberg,  do  not  depilate. 

Okaina — all  depilate. 

Resigero — all  depilate. 

Muenane — all  depilate. 

These  tribes  have  no  body  hair,  except  pubic  hair,  which  is 
very  scanty.  The  Indian  women  are  most  particular  about  the 
removal  of  all  pubic  hair.  The  men  are  less  careful,  though  it 
is  supposed  to  be  done,  but  as  that  part  of  their  bodies  is  never 
voluntarily  exposed  they  are  more  heedless  than  the  women. 


282 


APPENDIX  IV 


COLOUR  ANALYSIS  AND  MEASUREMENTS 

Colour 

( Vide  Colour  Curve.  Tintometer.) 

1.  Menimehe — lightest.  6.  Andoke. 

2.  Resigero.  7.  Karahone. 

3.  Okaina.  8.  Muenane. 

4.  Boro.  9.  Witoto. 

5.  Nonuya. 

Robuchon  gives  the  colours  of  the  Witotos  as  brown-copper 
colour,  varying  between  twenty-nine  and  thirty  of  the  chromatic 
scale  of  the  Anthropologicas  of  Paris. 

Colour  Analysis 


Unexposed  Part — Armpit 


Substance  examined. 

Matching  Standards. 

Colour  developed. 

Red. 

Yellow. 

Blue. 

Black. 

Orange. 

Red. 

Witoto  . . 1 

Muenane 

Karahone  . 

Andoke 

Nonuya  . . J 

Boro  ...  I 
Okaina 

3-6 

2-8 

1-6 

1-6 

•2 

•8 

Resigero  . . I 

Menimehe  . . J 

3-3 

27 

i-5 

1*5 

•2 

•6 

Mean  average  attempted  by  means  of  colour  markings  and 
identified  according  to  Lovibond’s  tintometer  scale. 

There  was  practically  no  tribal  differentiation  of  pigmentation 
in  the  units  of  these  groups,  as  far  as  the  unexposed  part  of  the 

283 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


284 

body  is  concerned.  This  is  understandable.  The  palm  of  the 
nigger’s  hand  differs  little  from  his  white  brother’s. 

Colour  Analysis 


Exposed  Part — Back 


Substance  examined. 

Matching  Standards. 

Colour  developed. 

Red. 

Yellow. 

Blue. 

Black. 

Orange. 

Red. 

9.  Witoto 
8.  Muenane  . 

IO-6 

9-2 

6-2 

6-2 

3-o 

1-4 

7.  Karahone . 
6.  Andoke 

87 

7’5 

4-5 

4-5 

3-o 

1-2 

5.  Nonuya  . 

8-o 

7-0 

4-0 

4-0 

3-o 

I'O 

4.  Boro 
3.  Okaina 

4'9 

4'4 

i-5 

i*5 

2-9 

•5 

2.  Resigero  . 
1 . Menimehe 

3‘4 

4-1 

*7 

•7 

27 

Yellow. 

.7  1 

1 The  only  yellow  free  colour. 


There  is  here  more  differentiation.  The  tribes  numbered 
1-9  are  in  order  of  shade,  from  the  lightest  according  to  personal 
observation.  This  is  borne  out  by  data  except  the  grouping 
which  was  not  so  apparent  to  the  eye. 

Apparently  in  one  tribe  only  is  red  non-existent,  free  yellow 
taking  the  place — No.  1 ( vide  curve). 

Colour  Curves  of  Skin  Pigmentation  (Indians  of  the 
Middle  Issa  and  Japura  Valleys) 

Colour  U/v/rs 


YELLOW 

CURVE 

ORANGE  L 

% 

REO  CUR 



/ 2 3 4 5 6 7 d -3 

Menimehe.  Resigero.  Okaina.  Boro.  Nonuya.  Andoke.  Karahone.  Muenane.  Witoto. 


Note. — It  will  be  seen  at  a glance  that  differentiation  is  caused  by  increased  “sadness”  or  excess  of 
black,  and  by  the  amount  of  free  red.  These  are  the  two  governing  factors.  Orange  is  constant 
throughout. 

N.B. — There  is  extraordinary  variation  amongst  individuals  of  the  same  tribe,  as  well  as  amongst 
tribes  of  the  same  language-group  and  language-groups  themselves. 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


285 


Huis’  Measurements  of  Samples  of  Women’s  Hair 

No.  1.  Maturity.  No.  2.  Ante-pubertal. 

Note. — The  lighter  tips  of  latter  which  become  eliminated  after  puberty, 
i.e.  elimination  of  orange. 


Red. 

Yellow. 

Blue.  Black. 

Green. 

Yellow. 

No.  1 ... 

I9'5 

31-0 

28-0=  19-5 

8-5 

3.0 

No.  2 ... 

i8‘5 

26-0 

17-0= 17-0 

Orange. 

i-5 

7S 

Light  tips  . . ) 

Dark  ends  . . j 

19 

26-0 

25-0=  19-0 

Green. 

6-0 

i-o 

Descriptive  Characters 

Eye. — 1.  Dark,  i.e.  black-brown  iris.  Note. — Outer  angles  of 
eyes  visibly  elevated  ; deep  - set ; eyeball  thick  ; covers  the 
caruncle  ; outer  angle  slightly  compressed  and  pointed. 

Hair. — Colours — 1.  Black,  not  coal  black.  2.  Children’s  hair 
is  some  shade  lighter  than  adults’,  but  still  “ black.” 

Form  of  Face. — 1.  Face  inclined  to  be  square  and  wedge- 
shaped.  2.  Inclined  to  concavity.  3.  Compare  photographs.  4. 
Chinese,  Fig.  6,  but  not  so  pronounced.  (N.B. — There  is  great 
variation.)  5.  Chin  small,  round,  retreating.  6.  Cheek-bones 
broad.  Face  flat  (inclination  to,  vide  photographs).  7.  Medium 
lips — great  variation.  8.  Ears  medium -sized — flat.  9.  Lobes 
sometimes  attached. 


Measurements  of  Types1  in  Centimetres 


Tribe. 

Head- 

Round. 

Head- 

-Across. 

Male. 

Female. 

Male. 

Female. 

i . Resigero  . 

56 

53 

14 

14 

2.  Nonuya  . 

56 

51 

16 

3.  Boro 

56 

52 

18 

15 

4.  Andoke  . 

57 

53 

17 

16 

5.  Witoto  . 

54 

• • 

15 

1 Approximate  measurements. 


286 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


Tribe. 

Head — Length. 

Neck. 

Male. 

Female. 

Male. 

Female. 

i . Resigero . 

20 

18 

Short 

Short 

2.  Nonuya  . 

21-5 

19 

Long 

Short 

3.  Boro 

24 

20 

Short 

Long 

4.  Andoke  . 

22 

19 

Medium 

Short 

5.  Witoto  . 

21 

Short 

•• 

Tribe. 

Cheek-Bones. 

Mouth. 

Male. 

Female. 

Male. 

Female. 

1.  Resigero 

High,  not 
pronounced 

High,  not 
pronounced 

Moderate 

Large 

2.  Nonuya. 

Very  high 

High,  not 
pronounced 

Large 

Large 

3.  Boro 

Wide,  high 

Wide,  high 

Small 

Small 

4.  Andoke  . 

a • 

. . 

Small 

Small 

5.  Witoto  . 

Wide,  high 

•• 

Large 

•• 

Tribe. 

Teeth. 

Eyes. 

Male. 

Female. 

Male. 

Female. 

I. 

Resigero  . 

Large 

Large 

Oblique 

Oblique 

2. 

Nonuya  . 

Deep-set 

Oblique 

3- 

Boro . 

Deep-set 

Oblique 

4- 

Andoke 

• • 

Slightly 

oblique 

Oblique 

5- 

Witoto 

Large,  even 

Oblique 

•• 

Tribe. 

Nose. 

Height. 

Male. 

Female. 

Male. 

Female. 

1 . Resigero . 

Straight 

Broad, 

bridged 

160 

138 

2.  Nonuya  . 

Aquiline 

Flat 

168 

149 

3.  Boro 

Depressed 

Depressed 

162 

146 

4.  Andoke  . 

Aquiline 

Depressed 

171 

146 

5.  Witoto  . 

Flat 

•• 

164 

•• 

THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


287 


Tribe. 

Chest— 

Round. 

Waist. 

Male. 

Female. 

Male. 

Female. 

1 . Resigero . 

85 

75 

73 

71 

2.  Nonuya  . 

87 

79 

73 

75 

3.  Boro 

88 

75 

77 

65 

4.  Andoke  . 

89 

82 

76 

76 

5.  Witoto  . 

90 

77 

• • 

Tribe. 

Hips — 

Round. 

Tip  Shoulder-Tip  Elbow. 

Male. 

Female. 

Male. 

Female. 

1.  Resigero  . 

82 

79 

35 

28 

2.  Nonuya  . 

83 

88 

35 

32 

3.  Boro 

87 

81 

34 

30 

4.  Andoke  . 

90 

87 

38 

33 

5.  Witoto  . 

84 

36 

Tribe. 

Elbow  to  Top  Middle  Finger. 

Eminence  Buttock  to  Tip 
Flexed  Knee.1 

Male. 

Female. 

Male. 

Female. 

i . Resigero . 

45 

39 

52 

44 

2.  Nonuya  . 

47 

41 

53 

48 

3.  Boro 

46 

42 

47 

45 

4.  Andoke  . 

48 

40 

53 

48 

5.  Witoto  . 

44 

52 

1 Outer  measurements  not,  as  they  should  have  been,  from  head  of  fibula  to 
top  of  great  trochanter. 


Tribe. 

Crutch  to  Tip  of  Flexed  Knee. 

Eminence  Knee  to  Ground. 

Male. 

Female. 

Male. 

Female. 

I.  Resigero  . 

37 

28 

51 

44 

2.  Nonuya  . 

40 

31 

53 

45 

3.  Boro 

36 

32 

51 

45 

4.  Andoke  . 

41 

33 

55 

44 

5.  Witoto  . 

38 

52 

288 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


Tribe. 

Feet. 

Distance  between  Nipples. 

Male. 

Female. 

Male. 

Female. 

i.  Resigero 

Broad, large 

Broad,  small 

20 

23 

2.  Nonuya 

Long 

Broad 

21-5 

23 

3.  Boro 

Large 

Small 

23 

22 

4.  Andoke 

Large,  broad 

Medium 

22 

20 

5.  Witoto 

Large,  broad 

• • 

22 

• • 

Tribe. 

Length  from  Centre  Nipples 
to  Navel. 

Navel  to  Crutch. 

Male. 

Female. 

Male. 

Female. 

1 . Resigero . 

23 

24 

19 

19 

2.  Nonuya  . 

25 

22 

24 

20 

3.  Boro 

21 

22 

20 

20 

4.  Andoke  . 

25 

25 

24 

23 

5.  Witoto  . 

26 

22 

• • 

Tribe. 

.Remarks. 

Male. 

Female. 

1.  Resigero  . 

2.  Nonuya  . 

3.  Boro 

4.  Andoke  . 

5.  Witoto 

Moderate 

Lean 

Well-nourished 

Well-nourished 

Well-nourished 

Plump 

Fat 

Well-nourished 
Very  plump 

Essential  Measurements 

Two  Cases,  Women,  Witoto 


I-}Head{Maximum 

2.  J l Maximum  breadth 

( Length  from  base  t 
1 Breadth  across  nost 


3-  >Nose 
4 ■> 

5} 

6. 

7- 
8.J 


Projection] 
of  head  j 


Centimetres. 


17-3 

18-15 

13-85 

13-9 

root 

4-3 

4-0 

Is 

3-o 

3-o 

root  of  nose  . 

9-2 

io-o 

mouth 

16-0 

14-2 

chin  . 

ig-o 

17-4 

tragus  of  ear. 

107 

12-0 

THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


289 


9- 

9- 

10. 

11. 

12. 


Bizygomalic  breadth  of  face 
Face  length  from  nasim  to  chin 
Length  of  upper  limb 


6o-o  1 
38-0 
15-0 
23-0 
72-0 
10375 
139-5 
120-5 
117-0 


12-75  12-0 

10-2  9-3 


13. 

14. 
15- 
16. 
17- 

18. 

19. 


f>  lou  u ... 

Sitting  height 

Kneeling  height 

Standing  height 

(Obvious)  height  to  chin 

Height  to  sternal  notch 

Height  from  internal  malleolus  to  ground 

Span  of  arms  . 


cubit 

hand  along  its  back 
foot 


20. 


6-4 

140-5 


1 N.B. — As  Case  2 was  growing,  further  measurements  will  be  useless 
if  not  misleading.  These  were  taken  with  the  help  of  a medical  man  and 
are  therefore  more  correct  than  other  measurements. 

Extra  Notes  on  Two  Women,  Witoto  (chosen  types) 

No.  1.  Very  short  neck  ; short  sternum  ; straight  shoulders. 
When  standing  at  ease  the  middle  finger  of  hand  is  half-way 
between  flexion  of  knee  and  hip-joint.  Thighs  short. 

No.  2.  Neck  short ; shoulders  straight ; good  teeth — very 
large  and  even. 

General  Description  of  Two  Indian  Women  for  evolving 
a Type.  Both  Witoto-speaking 

No.  1.  Woman  full  grown.  No.  2.  Still  growing,  of  pubertal 
age.  According  to  Schedule,  pp.  11,  Anatomical  Observation. 

External  Characters.  — General  condition  well  nourished  — 
healthy.  No.  1.  Stout.  No.  2.  Medium. 

Descriptive  Characters. 

A.  Colour  of  skin. 

No.  1.  Exposed  part  light  reddish-brown. 

No.  2.  Unexposed  part — very  much  fighter,  and 
tintometer  curve,  etc. 

B.  Colour  of  eyes.  Black. 

No.  1.  Dark-brown  iris. 

No.  2.  Black  iris. 

C.  Fold  of  skin  at  inner  angle  of  eyes. 


the  caruncle. 


U 


290 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


D. 

E. 

F. 

G. 


H. 


I. 

J. 

K. 


Colour  of  hair. 
No. 

No.  2 


I')Blackfbro™  in  s™Ufht 
2.J  Vi.e.  brown-black. 

Character  of  hair  {vide  Section  of  Hair). 

No  ^’  j Straight  and  coarse  (horse  hair  but  finer). 
Amount  of  hair. 

No.  1.  Body  very  very  scanty,  depilation  not  recent. 
No.  2.  Face  nil.  Body  nil. 

Shape  of  face. 

No.  i./Short- 
(Broad. 


No.  2. 


I Wedge-shaped. 


Profile  of  nose. 

No.  1.  Chinese  type. 

No.  2.  Chinese  type,  but  not  so  pronounced,  between 
this  and  European. 

Prognathism. 

No.  1.  Slight. 

No.  2.  Very  slight. 

Lips. 

No.  1.  Medium — slightly  everted. 

No.  2.  Medium  European  type. 


No.  1. 
No.  2. 


jpiatyoprosopic 


not  excessive. 


APPENDIX  V 


ARTICLES  NOTED  BY  WALLACE  AS  IN  USE  AMONG  THE  UAUPES 
INDIANS  THAT  ARE  FOUND  WITH  THE  ISSA-JAPURA  TRIBES 

Household,  Furniture  and  Utensils 


Hammocks. 

Baskets,  flat  and  deep. 
Calabashes  and  gourds. 
Earthenware  water-pots. 
Earthenware  cooking-pots. 
Manioc  graters. 

Manioc  squeezers. 

Wicker  sieves. 


Weapons 

Bows  and  arrows. 

Quivers. 

Blow-pipes. 

Small  pots  and  calabashes  for  poison. 
Spears. 

Nets. 

Rods,  lines,  and  palm-spine  hooks. 
Wicker  fish-traps. 


Musical  Instruments 

Fifes  and  flutes  of  reeds  . . Menimehe  and  Napo  tribes. 

Dress  and  Ornaments 

Feather  head-dress. 

Palm-wood  combs. 

Necklaces  of  seeds,  beads,  and  teeth. 

Wooden  ear- plugs. 

Armlets. 

Painted  aprons. 


292 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


Rattles  and  ornaments  for  legs. 
Knitted  garters. 

Calabashes  of  red  pigment. 
Painted  earthen  pot  for  capi. 
Small  pot  of  dried  peppers. 
Dancing  rattles. 

Balls  of  string. 

Baskets  for  edible  ants. 

Small  dug-out  canoe. 

Paddles. 

Pestles  and  mortars. 

Bombax  silk-cotton  for  arrows. 
Stone  axes. 


APPENDIX  VI 


NAMES  OF  DEITIES 


Many  writers  have  stated  that  the  Indians  of  the  Upper  Amazon 
forests  have  no  words  in  their  languages  to  express  a Supreme 
Being.  (See,  for  example,  Bates,  i.  162  ; Wallace,  p.  354 ; Nery, 
p.  273 ; Orton,  p.  316 ; Bates,  ii.  137,  162-3  > Markham.) 
It  therefore  seemed  to  me  worth  while  to  make  the  following 
list  of  words  expressive  of  some  idea  of  a superior,  non-human 
being,  good  or  bad. 


Tribe. 

Amazon  (proper) 


Atabayoo,  Inivida 
(Orinoco  tribes) 
Baniwa 


Bare 


Boro 
Bororo 

Casiquiari 

Equatorial  Andes  ! 

1 Neva  = also  sun,  morning. 


Good  Spirit. 


Cachimana 
(Humboldt,  ii.  362) 
Diotso 


Diose  (Sp.  Dios.) 
(Koch-Griinberg, 
p.  92) 

Oayaba 

(Spix) 

Neva  1 


Bad  Spirit. 
Curupira 
Diabo  do  mato 
(Spruce,  ii.  437) 
Iolokiamo 

(Humboldt,  ii.  362) 
Yenauepena 

(Koch-Griinberg) 
Ienahabapen 
(Tavera- Acosta) 
Iyehe 

(Koch-Griinberg) 


Navena  2 
Bope  3 

(Cook,  p.  55) 
Yamadu 
(Spruce,  ii.  437) 
Munyia 

(Spruce,  ii.  437) 


3 Bope  = aAso  disembodied  soul 

293 


2 Navena  = ghost,  devil. 


294 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


Tribe. 
Guay  an  a 

Hypurina 
Imihita  Miranya 

Karutana 

Katapolitani 

Puru 

Quichua 

Siusi 

Tamanac 

Tariana 


Ticuna 

Tupi-Guarani 

Uaupes 

Uarekena 


Good  Spirit. 


Nawene 

(Koch-Griinberg, 
Z.  9081) 


Ara,  Carimade 
(Clough,  p.  1 17) 

Apunchi-yaya  1 
(Orton,  p.  628) 

Y aperikuli  2 
(Koch-Grunberg, 
p.  92) 

Amulivaca  3 

(Humboldt,  ii.  473- 
474) 

Y aperikuli 

(Koch-Griinberg, 

P;  93) 

Iapiricure 

(Crevaux) 

Nanuloa 

(Markham) 

T upan 4 
(Nery,  p.  281) 
Tupanau 

(Wallace,  p.  348) 


Bad  Spirit. 
Yawahoo 
(Bancroft  and 
Stedman,  Spruce, 
ii-  437) 

Kamiri 

(Steere,  p.  379) 


Inei 

(Koch-Griinberg, 
P-  93) 

Iyemi,  Koai 

(Koch-Griinberg, 
P-  93) 

Arabuny,  Camery, 
Mendy 

(Clough,  p.  1 17) 


(Koch-Griinberg, 
P-  93) 


lyei 

(Koch-Griinberg, 

P-  93) 

Inhat 

(Crevaux) 

Locazy 

(Markham) 
Ananga  5 

(Nery,  p.  281) 


Kue 

(Koch-Griinberg, 
p.  92) 


1 Yaya= father. 

2 Y aperikuli  = heroes. 

3 Originally  father  or  creator,  not  Great  Spirit. 
1 Soul  of  father  or  parents. 

6 Soul  of  Evil. 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


295 


Tribe. 

Witoto 


Yagua 

Yukuna 


Zaparo 


Good  Spirit. 
Usiyamoi,1  Husin- 
aimui 

(Koch-Griinberg) 

Tupana 

(Orton,  p.  628) 


Piatzo  2 

(Orton,  p.  628) 


Bad  Spirit. 

Taifeno,  Taifa, 
Taegfeno  (spirit), 
Foremo  (phantom) 
(Koch-Griinberg) 


Hiya 

(Koch-Griinberg, 
P-  93) 

Mungia  (black 
spectre) 

(Orton,  p.  170) 
Zamaro 

(Simson,  p.  175) 
Samaro 

(Simson,  p.  263) 


1 Heroes  of  the  tribe. 

2 Also  great-great-grandfather. 


APPENDIX  VII 


VOCABULARIES  AND  LISTS  OF  NAMES 


Note  re  Pronunciation.  — Vowels  as  in  Italian  and  consonants  as 
in  English.  The  system  adopted  by  the  Anthropological  and  Geo- 
graphical Societies  has  been  followed. 


SOME  WITOTO  TRIBES  OF  THE 
WATERSHED 


Achopego. 

Aifuya. 

Aiguya. 

Aigwene. 

Aimene. 

Aiyofo. 

Amenane. 

Angarofo. 

Aniliene. 

Arama. 

Aronia. 

Baienise. 

Chaigero. 

Chepeye. 

Choria. 

Dedinuia. 

Diguene. 

Eguidafo. 

Eifuya. 

Eikifo. 

Emerai. 

Emuidifo. 

Enao. 


Enenea. 

Enifofo. 

Enokaise. 

Erai. 

Erifo. 

Fainya 

Feyagene. 

Fitia. 

Foetano. 

Fueragero. 

Futekwene. 

Gidone. 

Gimene. 

Guidua. 

Gwamareya. 

Hane. 

Hedua. 

Hegero. 

Hemui. 

Heone. 

Heya. 

Hifikuine. 

Hikoniai. 

Himene. 

296 


ISSA-JAPURA 

Himua. 

Hipunya. 

Hitamene. 

Homaguya. 

Huieku. 

Hui-Hui. 

Hurae. 

Husinene. 

Iagero. 

lane. 

Iconya. 

Ifekwene. 

Ipunya. 

Isikifo. 

Itomangero. 

Iyane. 

Kaiduya. 

Kaio. 

Kaniane. 

Kaniene. 

Kitopeise. 

Kokoya. 

Kotuene. 

Kotwine. 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


297 


Kuito. 

Kumaiere. 

Machifuri. 

Megiya. 

Menia. 

Merekweine. 

Mereta. 

Mikagwe. 

Minwa. 

Mofuinista. 

Mokine. 

Monane. 

Monanisei. 

Monanuise. 

Monawike. 

Muidofege. 

Muititefa. 

Muitofeiche. 

Naikwene. 

Naimene. 

Naiuiene. 

Nefesa. 

Nemuigaro. 


Nigwerene. 

Nimaita. 

Nofuinista. 

Nirafo. 

Nomene. 

Nomuene. 

Nongone. 

Nonuya. 

Nufuidai. 

Nufuya. 

Nuisai. 

Nuiuene. 

Owapirei. 

Owapure. 

Pofaito. 
Pueneisa. 
Puinaise. 
Puineita. 
t Puruia. 
Raikene. 
Riai. 

Rochegero. 

Ruiraga. 


Sebua. 

Seguene. 

Sigwene. 

Sikibia. 

Sikitaise. 

Taigwene. 

Taikebua. 

Tiase. 

Torifa. 

Uane. 

Uchopego. 

Uekanise. 

Uguine. 

Uiguene. 

Uhiya. 

Urafo. 

Urama. 

Utiguene. 

Yaaniani. 


SOME  TRIBES  OF  THE  OKAINA  GROUP 


Aniokasa. 

Dukaiya. 

Ekanocha. 

Enoya. 

Fatite. 


Harabahanako. 

Konega. 

Movanio. 

Netarako. 

Nimone. 


Ofofo. 

Pikaha. 

Tokoia. 

Tonhanoija. 

Zohonoija. 


SOME  BORO  TRIBES  OF  THE  ISSA-JAPURA  WATERSHED 


Atehl. 

Ibamahe. 

Megwamehe. 

Ikepake. 

Mememue. 

Bachiwame. 

Imene. 

Metakwe. 

Bakiehe. 

Inege. 

Bakohe. 

Itiage. 

Nabeme. 

Ivamehe. 

Nevahe. 

Chemaio. 

Kontadura. 

Nonuya. 

Chenome. 

Chibame. 

Kugwamihe. 

Nuremehe. 

Kugweme. 

Oha. 

Dossamehe. 

Megwae. 

Okaina. 

298 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


Paheime. 

Pei. 

Pirehamuena. 

Teiere. 

Tichibamuene. 


Ugwame. 

Uhemehe. 

Uratefo. 

Uwame. 

Wanahe. 


Warime. 

Warine. 

Warume. 

Wawako. 


WITOTO  CHIEFS  AND  MEDICINE-MEN 


Aikikwe. 

Ainenatofe. 

Amenatofe. 

Amuiyena. 

Bogana. 

Diehi. 

Diomao. 

Eavama. 

Echu. 

Efuyaima. 

Etokwenami. 

Fenamena. 

Forina. 

Hename. 


Henatoba. 

Hifaro. 

Hirevaina. 

Huguraitoma. 

Husinachire. 

Itomakuto. 

Kaimaiigero. 

Kutina. 

Kutofirima. 

Kwegado. 

Kwegare. 

Magui. 

Maiji. 

Maiu. 

Mayi. 


Meinyitofo. 

Monagara. 

Naimekwe. 

Okaima. 

Okainama. 

Puinanyete. 

Puinayeni. 

Puineima. 

Riaduema. 

Sekwana. 

Sotaro. 

Suneirokwe. 

Tifecheamena. 

Wamue. 


NAMES  OF  BORO  CHIEFS  AND  MEDICINE-MEN 


Adiama. 

Adiwako. 

Agepa. 

Akteume. 

Ativa. 

Ativatahe. 

Bugwaheio. 

Chevetahgwe. 

Chiako. 

Chikaho. 

Darapade. 

Dekio. 

Dihidihe. 

Ekeniba. 

Evahihaia. 

Evahikie. 


Gwanebe. 

Ibaje. 

Ibapakama. 

Imenepa. 

Inateraka. 

Kadokuri. 

Katinere. 

Kivape. 

Magapamena. 

Matremiko. 

Mewago. 

Mucheochime. 

Muchichigwako. 

Nehevaio. 

Nevamarime. 


Nevame. 

Nipemeiwako. 

Nivagwa. 

Nivahna. 

Poachiiba. 

Rimetagwa. 

Tchitchitaga. 

Teripa. 

Tikaame. 

Tirakagwako. 

Tirakawako. 

Uvatipa. 

Wadikova. 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 

WITOTO 


299 


Darkness  (devil) 

Apuehana 

Fire  .... 

Ireiki 

God  .... 

Usiyamoi 

Moon 

Fuibui 

Hunger  . 

Ameniti, 

naimede 

Laugh  . 

Sateide,  seteide 

Metal 

Okkupe 

Paper  (book) 

Kwerape  (liter- 

ally my 

leaves) 

Paper  (leaves)  . 

Rape 

Bush,  the 

Aisikumo 

Cliff  .... 

I fere 

Compound  . 

Gicheipwere 

Palm  j ungle 

Amena 

Plantation  . 

Akafo 

Alligator  pear  . 

Nomedo 

Coca  .... 

Hibia 

Cocoa 

Museje 

Fruit  (general)  . 

Rie 

Grape  fruit  . 

Hurekoi 

Gum  (rubber 

milk) 

Hittie 

Leaves  . 

Rape 

Maize 

Bechado 

Mango  palm 

Himeki 

Mango  palm 

drink  . 

Hayabei,  haga- 

pui 

Manioc  (poison- 

ous) 

Maika 

Palm 

A mena 

Palm 

Himepile, 

hitiji 

Bird  (small 

generally)  . 

Siji 

Bird  (small  un- 

known species) 

Iguyitoi 

Bird,  cock  . 

Eitaba 

Birds  (small 

game)  . 

Ataba 

Sky  .... 

Mona 

Sun  .... 

Itoma 

Water 

Heinowei 

Paper,  a speak- 

ing  leaf 

Kwede,  kweya- 
rape 

Powder  (dust)  . 

Himuisa 

Sleep 

I nude,  unyude 
kwinyakate 

Sleep,  dream 

Inie 

River 

I mane 

River,  a large  . 

Ichue 

Road 

Io 

Stream  . 

Hurete 

Streamlet 

Ichemo 

Palm  drink 

(pjnayo)  . . 

Himepwi 

Palm-spines 

Edo 

Pepper  . 

Ifigo 

Pineapple 

Rosiji 

Plantain 

Ogoda 

Plum 

Nemawsi 

Rubber  . 

I sire 

Rubber  latex  . 

Hittagei 

Sugar-cane  . 

Kananoganei, 

kononga 

Sugar-cane  juice 

Kananogan- 

’heinowei, 

kononochiki 

Tobacco 

Deui 

Tree  .... 

Inya 

Trees,  felled 

Amena 

Tree  poles  . 

Neda 

Withe  . . . 

Vineihi 

Birds,  chickens  . 

Ataba  hissa 

Capybara 

Okeina 

Curassoa 

Eifoke 

Deer  (one  species)  Kito 

Deer  (generally) 

Chaota 

Eggs  (generally) 

Herga 

Eggs  (one  kind) 

Ataba  hige 

300 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


Fish  (general)  . 

Jukua 

Jaguar  . . . 

Hekko 

Monkey  (general)  Homa 

Monkey  (one 

species) 

Hemwi 

Monkey,  small  . 

Hidobe 

Parrot  . 

Kwiyoto 

Parrot  (another 

kind) 

Kweko,  Uiyike 

Pig  ...  . 

Mero 

Boy  .... 

Toii 

Girl  .... 

Rinyosa 

Lad  . . . . 

Hivisa 

Man  .... 

Rema 

Man,  old 

W eikiroma- 

superoma 

Man,  strong 

Reima 

Men,  white 

(Europeans) 

Riei,  riama 

Brother — 

Man  speaking 

Ama 

Woman  speak- 

ing . . . 

Tio 

Brother-in-law  . 

Oima 

Child  . . . 

Hito 

Father  . 

Moma 

Grandfather 

Marama 

Grandmother  . 

Einyoko 

Husband 

Une 

Mother  . 

Einyo 

Nephew — 

Brother’s  child  Enasai 

Sister’s  child  . 

Komona 

Anus 

Sirafo 

Arm  .... 

Onawji 

Fore-arm 

Onefai 

Belly  . . . 

Ero 

Blood 

Dueidi 

Body 

Namaseapwi 

Bowels  . 

Hepe 

Clitoris  . 

Hito 

Ears  .... 

Efo 

Eyes 

Vise 

Face  .... 

Uyeko 

Feet  .... 

Elba,  epa 

Pig,  small  . 

Emo 

Spider 

Humakinyo 

Tapir 

Zuruma 

Tiger,  dog,  etc.  . 

Hekko 

Turkey  . 

Turkey  (another 

Muitoka, 

muito 

kind) 

Egwe 

Turkey  Buzzard  Eifoke 

People  . 

Komweine 

Stranger 
Stranger,  an 

Oikommo 

enemy  . 

Ikagmake 

Stranger,  a friend  Cheinama 

Woman  . 

Rinyo 

Woman,  old 
Niece — 

Weirinyo- 

irokwe 

Brother’s  child  Enasanyo 

Sister’s  child  . 
Sister — 

Momonio 

Man  speaking 
Woman  speak- 

Mirinyo 

ing  ... 

Epunyo 

Sister-in-law 
Uncle  — 
Father’s 

Of  any o 

brother  . 
Mother’s 

Iso 

brother  . 

Vichama 

Wife  .... 

Ei 

Finger  . 

Onoko 

Flesh 

Jukua 

Hair  .... 

Ifoterai 

Hair  (body) 

Heinektere  (/), 
heineitere 

Hair  (face)  . 

Eimago 

Hair  (pubic) 

Hueke 

Hand  . . . 

Ono 

Head  . . . 

I/O 

Heart 

Komeke 

Limbs 

Rueisi,  reesi 

Mouth  . 

Fue 

THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


301 


Nails 

Onokobi,  ono 
peko 

Nails  (toe)  . 

Ekobe 

Navel 

Modda 

Neck 

Kimo 

Nose 

Dofo 

Penis 

Hechina 

Pudenda 

Jana 

Ague 

Fuibuiko 

Diarrhoea 

Nuimuisa,  Jui, 
chui 

Bark  cloth  . 

Vinei 

Beads 

Sirie 

Breech  cloth 

Mokoto,  mak- 
nto  iroi,  hinoi- 
giroi 

Clothes  (general) 

Uiniroi 

Cord  (belt)  . 
Feather  head 

Kirige 

ornaments  . 

Eniago 

Necklace,  dance 

Chikai 

Baking-pan  . 

Sipe 

Cassava  . 

Tano 

Firewood 

Rege 

Hammock  . 

Kunei 

House 

Hofo 

House,  large 

Ejo  hofo 

Hut  .... 

Hiochupe 

Light  (artificial) 

Maha 

Axe  .... 

Chovema 

Blow-pipe  . 

Obidiake 

Fish-hook  . 

Fakawasi 

Knife 

Chovefa,  chove- 
tera 

Drum 

Hugwe 

Drum  mallet 

Quaki 

Afternoon  . 

Nawipe 

Morning 

Wiremoni 

Morning,  early  . 

Monanyeno 

Night 

Nagona 

Night,  last  . 

Nago,  hahe 
nago 

Night  before  last 

Beinawife 

To-day  . 

Beiruido 

Semen  . 

Uke 

Skull  . . . 

Ifoku 

Teeth 

Isido,  isife 

Testicles 

Hinyergo 

Tongue  . 

Hufe 

Urine 

Poji 

Vagina  . 

Berirafo 

Illness 

Duide,  tnike 

Small-pox  . 

Guiyoko,  tu- 

tuko 

Necklace  of  seeds 
Necklace,  of 

Imaidu 

teeth 

Efoke 

Slippers,  boots  . 

Epa  iko 

Socks 

Epa  iko  (see 
Feet  and  Cap) 

White  man’s  cap 
White  man’s 

Ifoigiko,  ifoiko, 
iko 

shirt 

Kaifofero 

Lighted  torch  . 

Maha 

Mat  .... 

Duriei 

Pot  .... 

Inogo,  ichuki 

Thatch  . 

Ereije 

Tobacco-pot 

Kuruke 

Torch 

Rekekawdo,  re- 
keketo,  recheki 

Pan  pipes  . 

Piabami 

Sword 

Chovega 

Trap,  animal 
Weapons,  stones, 

Iregi 

shot 

Chowefi,  jowefi, 
chowefei 

Signal-drum 

Ware 

To-morrow  . 
To-morrow,  day 

Wiremonei  (see 
Morning) 

after  . 

Dawire 

Twilight 

Naruide,  na- 
gona-yakate 

Yesterday  . 
Yesterday,  day 

Nawire 

before  . 

Beinawire 

302 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


All  ...  . 

Nana 

How  much  ? 

Nig  a ? 

Before  . 

Fuere 

Much 

Eijo 

Before  (position) 

TJikota 

Much,  enough  . 

Monome 

Before  (long  time)  Heiyei 

Nobody  . 

Buna 

Behind  . 

Moina 

Now  .... 

Monokoi 

Behind  (position)  Moina 

Only 

Dama 

Enough  . 

Asirele 

Then,  afterwards  Achue 

Farther  . 

Beife 

There 

Batinomo 

For  .... 

Mero 

This  .... 

Pie 

Full,  carefully, 

Together 

Fofona  (?) 

good  measure  . 

Einue 

Well  ? . . . 

Mei  ? 

Full  .... 

Moniteidi,  mo- 

What  ? . . . 

Nifote  ? 

nit  e 

Where  ? . 

Ninomo  ? 

Here 

Benomo 

Who  ? . . . 

Bu  ? 

How  many  ? 

Nigama  ? 

Why  ? . . . 

Nibaji,  nibeiji  ? 

No  ...  . 

Damaita 

Yes  ...  . 

Huhh,  U 

Not  . . . . 

Inyete 

(ventral) 

I 

Kwe 

We  ...  . 

Koko 

Thou 

0 

You  . . . . 

Omei 

He,  she,  him 

Afima 

They,  them 

Afimaki 

Bad  .... 

Figonigete 

Light  (sun)  . 

Hite 

Big  ...  . 

Eijue 

Light  (weight)  . 

Fekote 

Bitter 

Neimenete 

Long  . . . 

Are 

Black 

Ituide 

Red  . . . . 

Larede 

Cold  .... 

Rosirete 

Short 

Hiannare 

Cool  . . . . 

Maneide 

Small,  little 

Yewrete 

Dark 

Hitirite 

Soft  . . . . 

Itieide 

Dead .... 

Teide 

Straight  . 

Huchinyete 

Deeper  . 

Nane  efarite 

Strong  . 

Agarrite 

Dry  .... 

Daherede 

Thick  . . . 

Herie 

Good 

Figora 

Thin  . . . . 

Henite 

Hard  . . . 

Agarrite 

Twisted  . 

Huchite 

Heavy  . 

Merete 

Well  (in  health) 

Gagritte 

Hot  .... 

Usirete 

White  . . . 

Userede 

Early,  soon  . 

Ono 

Soon 

Reiri 

Slowly  . 

Puiya 

To  bathe 

Noise 

To  cry  . 

Ede 

To  bring 

Ate 

To  dry  . 

Nokitenyete, 

To  carry 

Ui 

nohipuinyete 

To  come  down  . 

Anabi 

To  eat  . 

Oko,  gunyo 

To  come  up 

Kifobi 

To  go  down 

Anahei 

To  cool  . 

Rosirete 

To  go  quickly  . 

Reiri  maka 

THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS  303 


To  go  up  . . Kifohei 

To  hear,  listen, 
understand  . Kekate 
To  heat  . . . Usirete 

To  hurt  . . Isirete 

To  like,  love,  de- 
sire (persons)  . Dwere-uile 
To  like,  love,  de- 


sire  (things) 
To  know 

. Oyakate 
. Onote 

To  make 

. Nenyo,  fuiho 

I am 

. Iti  kwe 

Thou  art 

. Iti-o 

He  is 

. Afima  ite 

I was 

. Kwe  ia 

Thou  wert  . 

. Ia  0 

He  was  . 

. Afima  ia 

To  rain  . 

. Nokitede,  noki- 
puite 

To  sit  down 

. Anar  ana 

To  sleep 

. Mei-ine 

To  speak 

. Naitode 

To  stay  . 

. Fuipire 

To  take  . 

. Gweipi 

To  urinate  . 

. Chowei,  pochite 

To  wait  . 

. Anafue 

To  wash 

. Hokoa 

To  work 

. Biefono, 

We  are  . 

. Iti  koko 

You  are  . 

. Iti  omoi 

They  are 

. A fimaki  ite 

We  were 

. Koko  ia 

You  were 

. I a omoi 

They  were  . 

. Afimaki  ia 

One  . 
Two  . 
Three 


. Dahe 
. Mena 
. Dahe-amene 


\ Four 
I Five  . 
I Ten  . 


. Menahere 
. Dapekwiro 
. Nagapekwiro 


Ask  me  . 

Give  me  . 

Give  me  food  . 

A few  days  ago 
It  is  dark 

It  is  going  to  rain 


Move  along  ! . 

Come  ! 

It  is  very  far  . 

It  is  near 

It  is  very  near 

It  is  very  much  farther 

Be  quick 

Be  slow  . 

You  do  not  want  me 
I am  about  to  punish  you 
What  do  you  want  ? 

How  much  do  you  want  ? 


, Kwemohikka 
. Kweme 
. Eka 

Tika  irue 
. Nawite 
j Teyakate 
{Puiyakate 
J 0 Komweine  1 
[O  Memeka  bu  ? 

I Hei  ! 

' Wo! 

. Bil 
(Hikka  Ite 
\Hikka  Are 
. Hiannare 
. Hikka-iannare 
. Hikka-fe 
Reiri 

(Pwia  hei 
\Pwia  ifo 

Kwena  dueruenyeteo 
O feitakkwe 
Nifote  oyakateo 
. Niga  oyakateo 


What  tribe  do  you  belong  to  ? . 


304 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


I want  to  see  .... 
I want  to  eat  .... 
I want  to  sleep 
I do  not  want  to  sleep 
Let  us  sleep  .... 
Let  us  walk  .... 
Let  us  bathe  .... 
Go  and  wash  .... 
What  are  you  doing  ? 

What  are  they  doing  ? 

What  have  you  done  ? 

What  have  you  others  done  ? 

Are  you  sick  ? ... 

What  is  the  matter  with  you  ? . 
What  pains  you  ? . 

He  is  dead  .... 
He  is  well  again 
Put  water  to  boil 
We  are  nearly  there  . 

We  have  not  arrived 
It  is  a long  way  yet. 

It  is  a very  long  way 
It  is  very  short 
Put  on  more  wood  . 

Fill  it  full  .... 
Be  careful  not  to  break  it 
Remove  the  leaves  . 

Open  it  carefully 
Cook  only  manioc  and  plantains 
Eat  the  skins  .... 
Take  some  crushed  maize 
How  many  women  are  there  ? . 
From  what  cause  has  your 
brother  died  ? . . . 

Why  did  you  leave  the  child  out- 
side ? It  will  be  eaten  by  the 
dogs  ..... 

Go  soon  and  guard  the  women  . 
Do  not  do  it  again  . 

An  unmoral  Indian  woman 
An  immoral  Indian  woman 
With  whom  have  you  been  having 
intercourse  ? . . . 

How  many  husbands  have  you 

had  ? 

Are  you  (a  virgin)  married  ? 


Eroi  yakatekwe 
Okoyakatekwe 
Iniyakatekwe 
Iniyakanyetekwe 
Meikoko  ini 
Manyakoko  maketchi 
Many  a koko  noi 
Hokorise 
Nefoteo  nia  ? 

Nefoteo  nietimeke  2 
Nefoteo  nieteo  2 
Nefoteo  omoi  nieteo  2 
f O seicha  2 
[Tuiko  teiteo  2 
Neisoi  o icha  ? 

O nino  isiritte  ? 

Ei  e teide 

Ei  e hichoet 

Heinoi  kokoita 

Duki-eikateki 

Duki  nieteke 

Nia  areiti 

Nia  are  are  are 

Wei  iannare 

Nane  rege  honne 

Nue  ornita 

Chitesai 

Rape  honne 

Nue  ekonotta 

Dama  seteo  meika  ogoto 

Igore  ine 

Pechato  tuta  hisano  ui 
Niga  rinyona  hisa  ite  2 
Nipeiche  tio  teide  2 


Nipeiche  hito  hmo  o fuaka 
daria 

Mei  rieri  rinyona  hofona  ipeise 
Mene  amanyete  omoi 
Rinyo  Rei-irage 
Rinyo  Kachirete 

Bu  tika  beriteo  2 

Nigama  bettor a-o  2 
Nia  rutanyega-o  2 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


305 


Who  ravished  you  ? 

You  are  blind  (a  fool) 

Do  not  delay  .... 
Give  me  something  . 

Do  not  give  anything 

Walk 

Do  not  walk  .... 

I do  not  understand 
That’s  my  business  (common  ex- 
pression without  intention  of 
rudeness)  .... 
My  body  aches 
Let  me  go  ... 

Hold  me  .... 
Turn  round  .... 
Do  not  move  .... 
Why  do  you  shout  ? 

It  is  big  ..... 

It  is  small  .... 

It  is  not  good  .... 
Do  you  like  it  ? 

Do  you  not  like  it  ? 

You  are  pretty 

You  are  ugly  .... 
You  are  dirty  .... 

I want  you  .... 

I do  not  want  you  . 

Tie  well  (the  cross  poles)  . 

Tie  higher  .... 
Take  care  not  to  break 
Well  done,  you  thatch  well 
Is  everything  clean  ? 

That  is  dirty,  I shall  punish  you 
It  is  very  sweet 
I do  not  like  it  hot  . 

I like  it  warm 

Look  well  in  front  of  you. 

The  plantation  is  a good  one 
The  plantation  is  a bad  one 
Let  us  go  and  build  a house 
There  are  not  sufficient  palisades 
All  of  you  bring  timber 
You  make  the  thatches 
These  boys  will  bring  canes 
These  others  will  bring  palm  leaves 
Those  will  make  holes 
I do  not  want  it  there 


Bu-o  rutaka  ? 

0 ui  nirite 

Fwepi  neri 

Feka 

Fekanyete 

Mekkate 

Mekanyete 

Kehanyete 

Pia 

Kwe  apui  isirete 

Kwe-mosueta 

Kwe-mojeno 

Jireno 

Weihoi 

Nipeiche  kicheteyo  ? 

Ei  ichwe 
( Hurete 
\ Eichonyete 
Fogonyete 
Kimmarueteo  ? 

Kimmaruenyeteo  ? 

Nuen  otego 
Nuenonyeteo 
Oapwi  gagrette 
Ona  dueruetckwe 
Ona  dueruenetckvue 
Nue  kwina 
Keifofe  kwina 
Titeise 

Mei  omoi  ita 
Nana  ganino  fuinore  ? 

Vie  gagrette  a kioiteo  o feitikwe 

Eicho  nimerettega 

Usirete  ittinyetekwe 

Chiei  maneide  ittitekwe 

Nue  oroi 

Nue  akafo  icha 

Akafo  fogonyete 

Manya  ofo  koko  fuinoche 

Nia  amena  nana  inyete 

Omoi  amena  atiche 

Are  niite  omoi 

Bie  hettanitino  are  gweichi 

Bimeke  ererite 

Bimeichino  iffweirakte 

Batinomo  ittinyetekwe 


X 


3°6 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


Open  it  here  . . • 

Send  me  the  small  boy 
Go  and  throw  away  that  water 
Wash  it  well  .... 
Do  not  delay  .... 
You  are  dirty  .... 
Put  it  there  .... 
Put  it  here  .... 
Put  it  yonder  .... 
Do  not  put  it  over  there  . 

Why  are  you  sad  ? . 

Who  hurt  you  ? . . . 

When  did  you  come  ? 

When  did  you  go  ? . 

It  is  so  firm  I cannot  move  it  . 
Bring  the  wood 
Do  not  throw  them  away 
I am  going  to  see 
If  you  do  not  bring  them,  I shall 
punish  you  .... 
Plant  them  carefully 
Go  and  clean  up 
Place  all  the  sticks  together 
You  have  left  the  plantation  un- 
tidy ..... 
Why  don’t  you  bring  it  ? . 

Make  enough  cassava 
Let  it  be  good 

Bring  a little  .... 
Not  enough  .... 

It  is  soft  .... 

What  are  you  doing  ? 

What  are  you  eating  ? 

Where  are  they — the  rest  of  you  ? 
Why  have  they  (the  others!  gone 
without  telling  me  ? 

Bring  it  to  the  light 
To-morrow  go  and  see  the  tribe 
and  then  return  here  together 
Split  it  with  the  knife 
Take  out  the  cane  early  . 

It  is  rich  .... 
Wash  the  pot  well  before  boiling 
water  in  it  . 

Do  not  put  much  fruit  in  it 
It  is  very  inconvenient 

I am  unable  .... 


Benomo  ekkono 
Urettema  kwemo  hito 
Mei  ba  i heinoi  dota 
Nue  hokorii 
Are  enyeno  bi 
Nia  gagrette 
Batinomo  honne 
Benomo  honne 
One  honne 

Batinomo  honne  nienc 
Nipeiche  sure  iteo  2 
Bu  o faga  2 
Nirueteo  viteo  2 
Nirueteo  heito  2 
Are  agagrette  ekkononyette 
I to  fie  nue  omoi  ire 
Oni  tinyeno  nue  ofitare 
A chimitekwe 

Omoi  pweya  fachiomoi 
Nue  omoi  haire 
Mei  omoi  reitiseiri 
Reitekinyo  nue  omoi  ofitare 

A kkafo  gagritte  omoi  fueka 

Nipeiche  atinyeta  omoi  2 

Eichwe  tano  fuinore 

Nuere  finoiche 

Yewre  atitomoi 

Dutenyete 

Itieide 

Nifote  niecomoi  2 
Nifote  okoteomoi  2 
Ninomo  iteomoi  2 

Nipeiche  kwe  jonyeno  heite  omoi  2 
Useritenomo  ate 

Weirimoni  dama  komweine  hoke 
teiteo  nana  fofona  orerire 
Chovefa  do  ekkono 
Monanyano  kononwe  ono 
Kei  maritte 

I chiko  nue  hoko  heinowei  hoku- 
itechi 

Eicho  rie  dotenyino 
Y otirette 
( Kwe  mona 
\ Hitinyete 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS  307 


I shall  carry  it 

Diuitikwe 

Do  not  carry  it 

TJinyetekwe 

I am  tired 

Aeeiontekwe 

You  are  going  to  carry  manioc  . 

Meika  omoi 

ui 

BORO 

Brother  . 

Tanyabe 

Man  . 

Gwapime 

Chief 

Abihibya 

Medicine-man  . 

Chekobe 

Chief’s  wife  . 

Abihilya 

Mother  . 

Gwaro 

Child  . . . 

Chemene 

People  . 

Akime 

Father  . 

Iero 

Sister 

Tanyali 

Fellow  - tribes- 

Sluggard 

Ubeye 

man 

Miamuina 

Son  . 

Chukije 

Husband 

Take 

Wife  . . 

Tap  a 

Liar 

Aliraje 

Woman  . 

Gwame 

Abdomen 

Mebigwa 

Hair  . . 

Nikwako 

Arm  .... 

Menejeko 

Hand 

Meuche 

Back 

M eatche 

Head 

Nikwa 

Belly  . . . 

Epae 

Heart 

Meebe 

Blood 

Tibune 

Knee 

Mimoko 

Body 

Kepe 

Leg  . . 

Take 

Bone 

Pukene 

Mouth  . 

Mehe 

Bosom  . 

Neghpane 

Navel 

Icheba 

Buttocks 

Medehe 

Neck 

Metchke 

Cheek 

Mekwa 

Nose 

Metiko 

Ear  .... 

Menimeo 

Penis 

Nomeo 

Eye  .... 

Ajike 

Testicles 

Domiba 

Finger  . 

Utsigwako,  me- 

Thigh 

Kibaje 

chiko 

Tongue  . 

Menigwa 

Flesh 

Iyame 

Tooth 

Igwahe 

Foot  .... 

Tia 

Vagina  . 

Elyapo,  diugwa 

Ague 

Chinabe 

Tick  . 

Chichihe 

Prickly  heat 

Nikemoi 

Wound  . 

Pepene 

Smallpox 

Maraipa 

Dance 

Machiba 

Remedy 

(in 

Falsehood  . 

Achipe 

general) 

Tab  ota 

Fear  .... 

Apichune 

Smell 

Tukine 

Grief 

Abiyene 

Truth 

Imiane 

in  ...  . 

Chemei 

Agouti  . 

Bute 

Bird 

Karaha 

Anaconda  . 

Bua 

Capybara 

Uba 

Ant-eater 

Ehe 

Deer  . 

Nibigwa 

Armadillo  . 

Tie 

Fish  . 

Amome 

3°8 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


Flea  .... 

Ikookwa 

Frog  .... 

Nihagwa 

Hawk 

Ane 

Head-louse  . 

Knawni 

Jigger-flea  . . 

Mipahe 

Land  crab  . 

N ekwalige 

Monkey  . 

Kemuime 

Mosquito 

Nee 

Cane 

Imuepa 

Cassava  . 

Mao 

Cassava  (cake)  . 

T opohe 

Coca  .... 

Ipe 

Fruit 

Home 

Grain 

Tsokome 

Guarana  fruit  . 

Inye 

Guava  . 

Tuche 

Gum 

Makhine 

Leaf  (letter) 

Gwahake-ane 

Lemon  . 

Teheba 

Maize 

Ihio 

Manioc  (flour)  . 

Chobema 

Basket  . 

Minyeba 

Baulks  of  timber  Imei 

Comb 

Pidogwa 

Cooking  pot 

Iguanye 

Door 

Cheugwa 

Drinking  gourd 

Jirijo 

Firewood 

Kuba 

Grater  . 

Chilye 

Hammock  . 

Gwapa 

House 

Ha-a 

Manioc  squeezer 

Buahe 

Mirror 

Mekeme 

Arrow 

Beremehe 

Arrow-poison  . 

Bakua 

Boat,  canoe 

Kihikwame 

Blowpipe 

Dodike 

Dance  rattle 

Tekie 

Fishnet 

Tsene 

Gun  .... 

Anihe 

Head  feathers  . 

Aboka 

Beads 

Ichkabe 

Clothes  . 

Kwaiame  (loin- 
cloth) 

Garment 

Kameha 

Head  ornament 

Gwatako 

Paca 

Take 

Parrot  . 

Yabe 

Pig  ...  . 

Mene 

Tapir 

Ukahe 

Tiger,  wild  dog  . 

Wipe 

Tucan 

Neichc 

Turkey -buzzard 

Pikahc 

Wild  turkey 

Imiko 

Manioc  (Poison- 

ous) 

Pika 

Manioc  (Sweet)  . 

Baheri 

Millet  . . . 

Matsaka 

Palm  needle 

Aneto 

Peppers  . 

Dio 

Pine-apple  . 

Kitsea 

Plantain 

Uhiko 

Plantation  . 

Emiye 

Stinging-herb  . 

Ate 

Twig 

Ratine 

Withe  . . . 

Aheba,  mo 

Yam 

Kate 

Oil  ...  . 

Diripa 

Platter  . 

Patahe 

Salt  .... 

Kanama 

Small  timber 

Igwa 

Soap 

Nishtie,  tagwa 

Spoon 

Daihigwa 

Tobacco 
Tobacco  stick- 

Banye 

match  . 

Kugwao 

Torch 

Diripa 

Water  jar  . 

I jo 

Knife,  sword 

Nitsikwa 

Mallet 

Imepachura 

Paddle  . 

Rope  (vegetable 

Bodugwa 

cable)  . 

Igwanye 

Signalling  drum 

Kimwe 

Sword 

Pitoho 

Whip 

Gwachike 

Loin-cloth  . 

Ike,  pakehe, 
kwaiame 

Man’s  bracelet  . 

Manyame 

Metal 

Tsitsi 

THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


309 


Bush,  the 

Bahe 

Night 

Beko 

Dawn 

Tsitsibeko 

Plantation  . 

Ernie 

Death 

Tsihibeko 

Rain 

Nihava 

Devil  . . . Navena 

Shadow  . 

Nave 

Dust 

Anijio 

Star  .... 

Mikirigwa 

Fire  .... 

Kihigwa 

Stream  . 

Te-e 

God  .... 

Neva 

Sun  .... 

Neva 

Good  Spirit  . 

Neva 

Thunder 

T sit  si 

Gunpowder  . 

Anijio 

Water 

Nepakio 

Morning 

Neva 

Now  .... 

Ikuka 

Yesterday  . 

A inpe 

To-morrow  . . Pekore 

Yes  ...  . 

Eh 

No  ...  . 

Cha 

To  call  attention 

To  call  attention 

of  a man  . 

Mupe  ! 

of  a woman 

Muije  ! 

All  ...  . 

Bemere 

Other 

Chipe 

Enough,  much  . 

Lirane 

Same 

Tedere 

Slowly  . 

Tsikene 

Quickly  . 

Chukure 

Far  .... 

Chiejene 

What 

Itsebane,  ina 

Far  away 

Kamine 

When 

Mukoka 

Here 

Iji 

Where  . 

Kia 

Near 

Perine 

Why  . . . 

Ivekie 

There 

Eji 

Angry  . . . 

Kaiyupa 

Low  .... 

Paa 

Bad  .... 

Nemine,  imi- 

Lower 

Paa-paa 

tine 

Old  ...  . 

Kieme 

Black 

Kiribebe 

Purple  . 

Chepanye 

Cold  .... 

T si gore 

Small 

Chuchine 

Good 

Imine 

Strong  . 

Kupene 

High  . . . 

Kame 

Thin  .... 

Arenegwe 

Higher  . 

Kame-kame 

Warm 

Kogore 

Lazy 

Urenere 

White 

A lijimuinya 

Little 

Neku 

Young  . 

Balyika 

Long,  big  . . 

Kameme 

I 

You  . . . . 

} n- 

Me  ...  . 

Yours 

\Di 

We  ...  . 

0 

My  ...  . 

Ta 

Us,  Mine 

Ours 

310 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


One  .... 

T saner e,  tsape 

I Four 

Mieke-mieke 

Two  . . . . 

Mieke 

Five  .... 

Sause 

Three 

Tsape-mieke 

One-half . 

Tiamie 

To  advance 

Ikeyi 

To  make,  do 

Mene 

To  bathe 

Maboigete 

To  move 

Chinye 

To  beat  flat 

Kihigwa 

To  open 

Paiyeke 

To  bind,  sew 

Tsiko 

To  rain  . 

Nihaba 

To  break  wind  . 

Nepo 

To  rest  . 

Paribe 

To  bring 

Tsate 

To  run  away 

Imiba 

To  call  . 

Pibwa 

To  scratch  . 

Medonakom 

To  catch  hold  . 

Dekeba 

To  search 

Neku 

To  come 

Dichabe 

To  see  . 

Aktime 

To  crush 

Megwasako 

To  speak 

Dibaje 

To  cut,  shorten 

Gwatairo 

To  strike 

Kaboko 

To  drink 

Mado 

To  throw 

Wago 

To  eat  . 

Macho 

To  tie 

Chichi 

To  go  . . . 

Opeko 

To  wait  . 

Ubi 

To  go  away 

Gwadipe 

To  wash 

Nitie 

To  hang 

Nehigwa 

To  work 

Wakimei 

Where  are  you  going  ? 

Kia  bwipe  ite  1 

Where  do  you  come  from  ? 

J Kia-te  itse  1 
[Minekwe  1 

Do  not  go  away 

Tsa  petine 

Stand  still 

Tachure 

Sit  dowji 

Takebe 

Bring  here 

Chibahe 

Let  us  go 

Mahu  Mepei 

Leave  me  alone 

Ubiedere 

Give  me  . 

Okedake 

Where  (is  it  ?) 

Kia 

Whose  (is  this  ?) 

Mu 

There  is  none  . 

Tsa  ik  aline 

I do  not  know 

1 Ur  eta 

( Tsa  quaha  KStine 

How  many  ? . 

Muitemeko  ? 

What  is  the  matter 
What  is  hurting  you  ? 
What  are  you  called  ? 
Are  you  willing  ? 
Cover  it  up 
Hold  your  tongue 
It  is  well 
Good-bye 


j Ina  ichabie  1 

Muipa  dimene  1 
Imeje  ? 

Gwatako 
Kcklere 
I mine 
Opeko 


APPENDIX  VIII 


Oikommo  is  within  the  hofo,1 

With  our  tribe  there  is  Oikommo, 

And  whence  cometh  Oikommo, 

And  from  where  does  he  come  ? 

He  comes  from  the  clouds, 

From  the  clouds  he  comes  ; 

And  why  does  he  come  so  far  ? 

And  why  does  he  come  ? 

In  his  land  are  no  bread  and  few  women 
In  his  land  is  no  bread  ; 

And  what  is  the  name  of  the  stranger. 

And  what  is  his  name  ? 

His  name  is  Whiffena  Ri-e-i,2 
His  name  is  Whiff-en-a, 

And  partly  his  name  is  Itoma,3 
Itoma  is  also  his  name  ; 

And  what  is  he  called  by  his  man  friends, 

And  what  is  his  other  name  ? 

His  privy  name  is  Ei-fo-ke ,4 
Ei-fo-ke  is  his  privy  name  ; 5 
And  why  is  he  called  Ei-fo-ke  ? 

1 House.  2 Ri-e-i,  white  man.  3 Itoma,  sun. 

4 Ei-fo-ke,  Turkey-buzzard. 

5 Privy  name.  Reference  to  the  fact  that  all  Indians  have  two  names. 

See  p.  154  for  note  on  nomen  penis  sui. 


LIST  OF  BOOKS  REFERRED  TO 


Alcock,  Frederick,  F.R.G.S. 

Trade  and  Travel  in  South  America.  2nd  edit.  London,  1907. 
Andre,  Eugene,  F.R.G.S.,  F.Z.S.,  M.S.A. 

A Naturalist  in  the  Guianas.  London,  1904. 

Bancroft,  Hubert  Howe. 

Native  Races  of  the  Pacific  States.  1875-76. 

Bancroft,  Edward,  and  Stedman. 

Essay  on  Natural  History  of  Guiana.  1769. 

Bates,  Henry  Walter. 

The  Naturalist  on  the  River  Amazons.  2 vols.  London,  1863. 
Brazilian  Year  Book.  1908. 

Brinton,  Daniel  G. 

Religions  of  Primitive  Peoples.  London  and  New  York,  1897. 
Clough,  R.  Stewart. 

The  Amazons.  London,  n.d. 

Crevaux,  Dr.  J. 

Voyages  dans  TAmMque  du  sud.  Paris,  1883. 

Fleur es  de  I’AmSrique  du  Sud  Yapura. 

V ocabulaire  frangais-roucouyennes. 

Darwin,  Charles. 

Narrative  of  the  Voyages  of  the  Beagle.  1839. 

Deniker,  Joseph,  Sc.D.  Paris. 

The  Races  of  Man.  1900. 

Enoch,  C.  Reginald,  F.R.G.S. 

The  Andes  and  the  Amazons.  London,  1907. 

Peru.  London,  1908. 

Fountain,  Paul. 

The  River  Amazon.  London,  1914. 

Hardenburg,  W.  E. 

The  Putumayo.  London,  1912. 

History  of  South  America,  by  an  American.  1899. 

Humboldt. 

Personal  Narrative  of  Travels  to  the  Equinoctial  Regions  by  the  New 
Continent,  1799-1804.  3 vols.  Bohn  edition.  1852-53. 

im  Thurn,  Sir  Everard  F.,  K.C.M.G. 

Among  the  Indians  of  Guiana.  London,  1883. 

Joyce,  Thomas  A. 

South  American  Archaeology.  London,  1912. 

Koch-Grunberg,  Dr.  Theodor. 

Aruak-Spracken  N ordwestbrasiliens  und  der  angrenzenden  Gebiete. 
Journal  de  la  Soci&te  des  A mericainists  de  Paris. 

Zwei  Jahre  unter  den  Indianern : Reisen  in  Nordwest-Brasilien,  1903- 
1905.  2 vols.  Berlin,  1910. 

Zeitschrift  fiir  Ethnologie . 


3L3 


314  THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 

Markham,  Sir  Clements  R.,  K.C.B. 

Expeditions  into  the  Valley  of  the  Amazons.  Hakluyt  Society,  rgu. 
Peruvian  Bark  : Introduction  of  Chinchona  Cultivation  into  India,  1860- 
1880.  1880. 

Maw,  Henry  Lister. 

Journal  of  a Passage  from  the  Pacific  to  the  Atlantic.  London,  1829. 
Nery,  Baron  de  Santa- Anna. 

The  Land  of  the  Amazons.  London,  1901. 

Oakenfull,  J.  C. 

Brazil  in  1909.  1st  edit.  Paris,  1909. 

Orton,  James. 

The  Andes  and  the  Amazon.  New  York,  n.d. 

Ratzel,  F. 

History  of  Mankind.  3 vols.  Translated  from  2nd  German  edition 
by  Sir  A.  J.  Butler,  M.A.  London,  1897. 

Rice,  Hamilton. 

Quito  to  Iquitos  by  the  River  Napo. 

Further  Explorations  in  the  North-West  Amazon  Basin.  The  River 
U aupes. 

Rodway,  James. 

Guiana  : British,  Dutch,  and  French.  London,  1912. 

In  the  Guiana  Forest.  1894. 

Schoolcraft,  H.  R. 

Historical  and  Statistical  Information  respecting  the  History,  etc.,  of  the 
Indian  Tribes  of  the  United  States.  Philadelphia,  1851. 

Simson,  Alfred. 

T ravels  in  the  W ilds  of  Ecuador  and  Exploration  of  the  Putumayo  River. 
1886. 

Spix,  John  Baptist  von,  and  Martius,  C.F.P.  von. 

Travels  in  Brazil,  1817-20.  Translated  by  H.  E.  Lloyd.  1824. 
Spruce,  Richard,  Ph.D. 

Notes  of  a Botanist  on  the  Amazon  and  Andes.  2 vols.  London,  1908. 
The  Great  River.  Notes  on  the  Amazon  and  its  Tributaries.  London,  1904. 

Tylor,  E.  B. 

Researches  into  the  Early  History  of  Mankind.  London,  1865. 

von  Martius,  C.  F.  P. 

Zeitschrift  fur  Ethnologie. 

Beitrage  zur  Ethnographie  und  Sprachenkunde  Amerikas  zumal 
Brasiliens. 

Wallace,  Alfred  R. 

A Narrative  of  Travels  on  the  Amazon  and  Rio  Negro.  London,  1853. 
On  the  Rio  Negro.  Pamphlet.  1853. 

Waterton,  Charles. 

Wanderings  in  South  America.  New  edition.  London,  1879. 
Westermarck,  Edward. 

The  History  of  Human  Marriage.  3rd  edit.  London,  1901. 
Woodroffe,  Joseph  F. 

The  Upper  Reaches  of  the  Amazon.  London,  1914. 


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! t AN  FOND'S  GEOGRAPHICAL  ESTABLISHMENT,  LOHOO 


INDEX 


Agriculture — crops,  104  ; harvest,  193  ; 
plantations,  103  ; sowing,  104 ; 
women’s  work,  67,  102,  103-4,  105, 

131 

Amazons,  legends  of,  239-40 
Animals — characteristics,  243-4  ; n° 
domestic,  52,  102  ; scarcity  of, 
128 

Agouti,  127 ; antbear,  127 ; arma- 
dillo, 128 ; bats,  51  ; capy- 
bara,  127,  147 ; deer,  128,  147 ; 
dogs,  102  ; jaguar,  36,  182,  185, 
221,  231,  232,  244  ; monkey,  52, 
128  ; paca,  127  ; peccary,  128-9, 
148  ; tapir,  126-7,  147,  174,  244  ; 
tiger  ( see  jaguar) 

Anthropophagy — dances,  204-5  ; feasts, 
119-23;  practices,  119;  reasons 
for,  120-21,  177 

Arts  and  Crafts — basket-making,  96-7  ; 
carving,  91-2,  93,  211-12  ; painting, 
91  ( see  Ornaments)  ; pottery,  62, 
95,  96 

Bates,  Henry  Walter,  52,  122,  125,  146, 
199,  229,  232,  278,  280 
Birds,  129  ; shooting,  108,  109  ; condor, 
183-4  ; parrots,  129 
Birth  — customs,  146  - 52,  273  ( see 

Couvade)  ; of  twins,  120,  150,  244 
Boats — how  made,  100-101;  canoes,  29, 
ior,  265  ; rafts,  101,  265 
Bridges,  28-9 

Brown,  John,  3,  8,  9,  14,  38,  249,  253 
Burial,  175-7,  224 ; customs,  74,  81, 
176,  226 

Casement,  Sir  Roger,  234-5,  246 
Cassava — preparation  of,  132-4,  144  ; 
grater,  99,  131-2 ; squeezer,  98, 

132  ; Boro,  98,  132  ; manufacture 
of,  98-9  ; Witoto,  55,  98-9,  132 

Cazes,  Mr.  David,  2 
Charms,  234 

Chiefs,  64-5,  67,  71,  193,  200,  244,  257, 

3i 


258-9  ; death  of,  65,  70,  119,  176- 
177  ; dress  of,  71,  73,  76  ; house 
of,  47,  64  ; influence  of,  64  ; wife 
of,  73,  123,  159,  200-201  ; women 
of,  64,  159-60,  163.  Katenere,  63. 
Nonugamue,  63 

Children,  88,  124-5,  135,  146-58,  208, 
236,  257,  269,  276  ; boys,  76,  108, 
165  ; capture  of,  69-70,  274  ; girls, 
68,  157-8,  164-5  ; marriage  of, 
162  ; stealing  by  spirits  and  tigers 
of,  219-20,  224,  232  ; treatment 
of,  155-8  ; toys,  93,  108,  156 
Chorera,  4,  5,  6,  2r 
Climate,  22-4,  25 
Clough,  R.  Stewart,  158 
Coca,  104,  106,  135,  141-2,  179,  187  ; 
effects  of,  142-3,  264,  277  ; pre- 
paration of,  141 
Couvade,  55,  148,  151-3 
Crevaux,  Dr.,  55,  57,  72487,  96,  240-41, 
276 

Dances,  Chapter  xv.  ; complaints  at, 
196-7  ; decoration  and  dress  for, 
75,  191  ; effect  of,  202-3,  204 ; 
invitation  to,  192,  253  ; prepara- 
tion for,  140,  191-2,  273.  Varieties 
— animal,  201-2  ; harvest,  193, 
199-201,  208  ; initiation,  197-9  ; 
Jurupari,  157,  158,  198,  212-13  ; 
riddle,  201-2,  209  ; war,  203-5 
Dancing-ground,  42,  102,  192,  194 
Dancing  staff,  193-4,  x95 
Dancing  steps,  193,  194,  195-6,  203,  204 
Death,  167,  168,  170,  173,  187  ; how 
regarded,  61,  175,  178  ; of  chief, 
65  ; homicide,  118,  171-2 ; in- 
fanticide, 146,  149-51,  170-71 
Deniker,  J.,  54 

Depilation,  120,  181-2,  241-2,  273,  281, 
282 

Disease,  168,  178,  186,  229  ; chronic, 
170  ; infections,  169, 173  ; mental, 
169;  skin,  174,  175;  beriberi,  13, 

5 


3*6 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


174 ; fever,  173,  188  ; smallpox, 
174  ; sun-sickness,  173 
Divorce,  165-6 

Dress,  71-6  ; ceremonial,  74  ; t ravellers’, 
15,  16  ; men’s,  72,  73  ; women’s, 
72,  79  ; breech-cloth,  manufacture 
of,  73  ; never  removed,  74  ; liga- 
tures, 73,  77,  83,  84,  271.  See 
Chief,  Medicine-man,  etc. 

Drinks,  101  ; fruit,  104,  139  ; herb, 
138,  277;  intoxicating,  139-41; 
unfermented,  138-9 

Drugs,  140,  175,  182-3,  187.  See 
Poison,  Snuff,  etc. 

Escort,  3,  5,  71  ; management  of,  4 

Field  of  exploration,  17-18 
Fire,  48-50,  133,  136  ; by  friction,  48  ; 
method  of  making  unknown,  48  ; 
plan  of,  49,  50 
Fish,  130-31,  245,  279 
Fishing,  112;  nets,  112;  poison,  1 13-14; 
spears,  113 

Floods,  22,  32  ; traditions  of,  238-9 
Folk  tales,  221-3,  231,  236-45  ; animal 
stories,  243-4 

Food,  50,  126,  128-30,  257  ; difficulty 
of  obtaining,  15,  38  ; eggs  not 
taken  for,  130;  influence  of,  121, 
147-8  ; preparation  of,  68,  105, 
135-6  ; scarcity  of,  120,  121,  126  ; 
when  eaten,  134-5  ; animal,  128-9  ; 
peppers,  105,  134;  pepper-pot, 
129,  134,  135-6;  reptiles,  129; 
salt,  124,  134  ; sauces,  133-4,  *39  1 
sugar,  104  ; turtles,  129  - 30  ; 
vermin,  130.  See  Cassava,  Fish, 
Fruit,  etc. 

Forest— birds  in,  26  ; description  of, 
26-8  ; depressing  influence  of,  14, 
35-6,  265,  266  ; lost  in,  37  ; noises 
in,  34  ; silence  of,  34  ; tracks  in, 
28 ; travellers’  danger  in,  29 ; 
travelling  in,  14,  34-5,  37 
Fruit,  104,  135,  136-7 

Games,  157  ; singing,  208-9  ; toys,  93, 
108,  156 

Geophagy,  124-5 

Hair,  274,  282,  285  ; how  worn,  77-8, 
274 

Hammocks,  55  ; how  slung,  47,  50  ; 
made  by  women,  97-9  ; Witoto, 
54,  91 

Hardenburg,  W.  E.,  62,  88,  149,  163 
Head  hunters,  122 

Houses — private,  47-8, 161 ; temporary, 
47  ; tribal — Maloka,  40-52  ; con- 


struction of,  43  ; light  in,  49,  186  ; 
plan  of,  41,  43,  45,  46  ; sites  of,  42, 
1 18  ; thatch  of,  43-4 
Hunting,  104,  107-9,  110  ! rights,  112  ; 
traps,  1 10- 1 1.  See  Weapons 

Igarape  Falls,  6 

Implements — household  ; earthenware, 
133  ; human  bone,  123-4  ; knives, 
94  ; pestle  and  mortar,  99,  14 1 ; 
tools,  95,  214;  troughs,  99,  140-41 
imThurn,  Sir  Everard,  55,  76,  152,  239, 
274 

Indian — beliefs,  Chapter  xvn. ; char- 
acter, 4,  13,  61,  no,  156,  202,  236, 
256-64,  275-6  ; cruelty  to  infirm, 
169-70,  257  ; ethics,  65,  66,  68, 
260-62  ; kinship,  67,  244,  276 ; life, 
50,  236,  246,  276-7,  278  ; origin 
not  decadent  remnants,  54,  264-6  ; 
physical  traits,  269,  Appendices ; 
treachery,  4,  258,  259-60  ; types, 
classification  of,  53  ; Neolithic,  94, 
266 ; voice,  207,  253-4 ; wood- 
craft, 106-7 

Indians,  story  of  white,  240-41 
Initiation,  157-8,  165  ; dances,  197-9 
Insects,  30,  52  ; ants,  32,  33,  51,  97  i 
beetles,  82;  bees,  31,  51,  130; 
butterflies  and  moths,  31-2  ; flies, 
30  ; harvest  boys,  31  ; jiggers,  51, 
173-4.  273 ; lice,  130,  173,  273  ; 
mosquito,  31,  51;  pium,  30-31,  51, 
173  ; sandfly,  31 ; spiders,  51  ; 
ticks,  31,  273  ; wasps,  31,  130 

Joyce,  Thomas  A.,  238 

Jurupari,  229,  231.  See  also  Dances 

Koch-Griinberg,  Dr.,  46-7,  60,  77,  in, 
121,  151,  159,  175,  188,  194,  198, 
247,  251,  262,  275,  282 

Language,  Chapter  xix. ; drum,  215- 
216,  253  ; gesture,  251 ; groups, 
56,  57,  247 

Manioc,  68,  104-5,  237-8  ; cultivation 
of,  104-5,  131  ; preparation  of,  98- 
99,  131-4 

Map— Witoto,  92-3 
Markham,  Sir  Clements,  158 
Marriage,  60-61,  66-7,  103,  159-67 ; 
arrangement  of,  158,  159-60,  161 ; 
betrothal,  162;  ceremonies,  160- 
164 ; fidelity  in,  69,  166-7,  262 
Medicine-man,  140,  Chapter  xiv.,  273  ; 
dress  of,  73,  95,  183  ; functions  of, 
151,  153,  168-9,  x75,  185-6;  in- 
fluence of,  64  ; magic  powers  of, 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


3i7 


172,  178,  179-81,  182,  183-4,  185, 
186-7,  188-9,  224,  228,  232  ; poison 
made  by,  144,  178-9  ; succession 
of,  181-2 

Music,  207-8;  instruments,  210-17; 
castanets,  213;  drums,  204,  210, 
214-17  ; signal  drums,  192,  214-17, 
253  ; flutes,  123,  192, 194, 195, 197, 
204,  210,  211-12;  pan-pipes,  192-3, 
204,  210-211 ; rattles,  83,  84,  194, 
195,  210,  213-14;  trumpets,  21 1- 
12;  whistles,  194,  212;  Jurupari, 
212-13 

Names,  56,  244,  248  ; boys’  and  girls’, 
153 ; not  mentioned,  57,  153-4, 
220,  226-7,  280 

Nery,  Baron  de  Santa-Anna,  239 

Ornaments,  76  ; beaded  garlands,  79- 
80,  81,  191  ; beads,  79-80,  82-3, 
213  ; bracelets,  82-3,  213  ; combs, 
77-8  ; earrings,  85,  86,  275  ; 

feather  head-dress,  75-6  ; feathers, 
76-7,  83,  85,  86,  191  ; labret,  86  ; 
necklaces,  81,  82,  192  ; nosepin, 
86,  275  ; paint,  87,  192  ; scarifica- 
tion, 86  ; tattoo,  86,  87 

Orton,  James,  279,  280,  281 

Palms,  30  ; Aeta,  26  ; Astrocaryum,  30  ; 
Chambiri,  97 ; edible  varieties, 
137  ; Iriartea  ventricosa,  29 

Poisons,  91,  hi,  116-17,  168-9,  219,  259- 
260  ; preparation  of,  144-5,  179 

Proverbs,  259-60 

Rainfall,  22 

Reptiles,  33 ; anaconda,  184,  231  ; 
boa-constrictor,  36  ; frogs,  129  ; 
iguana,  129  ; lizard,  184  ; snakes, 
129  ; fear  of,  30 

Rice,  Hamilton,  97 

Rivers,  Dr.  W.  H.  R.,  237,  266 

Rivers — Acre,  11 ; Aiary,  198  ; Amazon, 
17,  18,  20,  33  ; fascination  of,  17, 
205  ; scenery  of,  25  ; soil  of  basin, 
24-5  ; Apaporis,  10,  59 ; Avio 
Parana,  7,  8 ; black  water  streams, 
19  ; Fue,  6 ; Igara  Parana,  3,  4,  5, 
6.  7.  18.  58  ; description  of,  20 ; 
Ira,  58  ; Issa,  5,  17,  19,  24,  31,  58, 
173  ; description  of,  19,  22  ; fish 
in,  131  ; Issanna,  140  ; Japura,  6, 
8,  11,  12,  17,  18,  33,  58,  70,  73; 
camp  on,  5 ; scenery,  22 ; Ka- 
huinari,  7,  11,  13,  31,  58  ; descrip- 
tion of,  22  ; journey  up,  5 ; Kara 
Parana,  18,  21  ; Kuemani,  58  ; 
Miriti,  74 ; Napo,  18,  24,  222 ; 


houses  on,  44 ; trip  up,  2 ; Negro, 
18,  19,  104,  222  ; Papunya,  8,  20, 
58;  Tapajos,  113  ; Tanauru,  58; 
Tikie,  61  ; Uaupes,  18,  59,  91,  112  ; 
black  water,  19  ; description  of, 
18-19  j houses  on,  46  ; proposed 
journey  up,  1,  2,  13  ; Wama,  58  ; 
white  water  streams,  19 
Robuchon,  Eugene,  20,  31,  46,  65,  86, 
88,  89,  99,  119,  122,  123,  163,  210, 
270,  272  ; deserted  by  carriers,  7, 
8 ; disappearance  of,  5-12  ; dog 
“ Othello,”  7,  8,  10,  11  ; last  camp 
of,  9,  10  ; last  message  from,  8 ; 
previously  lost,  11  ; relief  ex- 
pedition, 8,  11 ; survivors  of,  6 
Route,  2,  3,  5,  8,  9,  10,  13 
Rubber — Belt,  3,  4,  11,  40,  72,  80,  91, 
101,  174,  257  ; gatherers,  2,  3,  48, 
63-4 

Simson,  Alfred,  243,  250 
Slaves,  5,  69-70,  124, 170,  263,  273.  See 
Tribes,  Maku 
Snuff,  143,  179 

Songs,  190,  196-7,  199-201,  206-10 ; 

meaning  of  words  lost,  190,  207-8 
Spelling,  57,  248-9 
Spines,  30,  35  ; used  for  combs,  77 
Spirits,  92,  Chapter  xvn. ; evil,  179, 
185,  186,  218,  219-20,  223-5,  228-9, 
233  ; Good,  218-19,  221,  223,  224-5, 
226  ; appeared  to  man,  93,  221-3, 
237-8  ; land  of,  225-6  ; return  of, 
172,  176,  177,  182,  224-7  ; trans- 
migratory,  224-5,  227-8 
Spruce,  Richard,  19,  32,  33,  99,  101, 
128,  140,  188,  238,  240,  244,  280 
Stone — absence  of,  20,  24,  94,  265  ; 
found  at  Chorera,  21  ; axes,  94, 
260  ; magic  stones,  183,  184 

Tabu,  90,  243  ; birth,  12 1 ; coca,  68, 
105,  143,  152  ; food,  121,  135,  147- 
148,  152,  155,  243-4 1 medicine- 
man’s, 182  ; removal  of,  180 ; 
tobacco,  68,  105,  143-4  ; women’s, 
68,  105,  123,  135,  140,  143-4,  147-8, 
165.  i97,  212-13,  240,  244 
Teeth,  275  ; necklaces  of  human,  81, 
124  ; painted  black,  88 
Theft,  171 

Tobacco,  104,  105,  187  ; ceremonial 
licking,  153,  163,  221,  259  ; drink- 
ing, 65-6,  179  ; not  smoked,  143, 
158  ; preparation  of,  143-4.  See 
Tabu 

Tobacco  palaver,  46,  64,  65-6,  117,  165, 
197,  222 

Tobacco  pot,  65,  144,  259 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


3i8 

i 

Trade,  61-2,  79,  91,  105-6,  108,  134, 
144,  164,  217 

Travelling  in  bush,  14,  15,  258-9  ; dress, 
75  ; equipment,  15-16 
Tree-climbing,  method  of,  106 
Tribal  Council,  65  ; house  (see  Houses, 
Maloka)  ; marks,  61,  86,  158  ; 
signals,  253  ; system,  62-5 
Tribes,  54,  56,  57,  58,  256  ; localities 
changing,  59,  62 
Aiary,  198 
Akaroa,  247 

Andoke,  132,  133,  157,  162,  231,  273  ; 
appearance  of,  60,  269,  275  ; canni- 
bals, 120 ; character,  257,  259,  277  ; 
chief,  5,  65  ; country  of,  5,  58,  201  ; 
dress  of,  78  ; language  of,  14,  248  ; 
manufactures,  108  ; medicine- 
man, 73,  95,  178,  179,  182,  183, 
184  ; ornaments, 88,  89  ; statistics, 
59,  247 

Apaporis,  74,  75,  116,  158,  175 
Arakaine,  120 
Arawak,  54 
Auhishiri,  60 

Bara,  59,  61,  108,  140,  157,  188,  282  ; 
statistics,  247 

Boro,  55,  56,  71,  104,  112,  127,  132, 
133,  152,  153,  154,  162,  178,  216, 
276  ; appearance  of,  58,  60,  61,  77, 
269,  271,  274-5,  282  ; beliefs  of, 
230-31,234;  cannibals,  1 19  ; char- 
acter, 277  ; chief,  63,  197  ; dances, 
194,  199-201  ; dress,  75,  78,  83,  84  ; 
folk  - tales,  221-2,  241-2,  244; 
houses,  44,  48  ; language,  14,  220, 
221,  247,  248,  251,  252,  253,  and 
Appendices  ; localities,  58  ; manu- 
factures, 91,  96,  108  ; ornaments, 
82,  85,  86 ; statistics,  59,  247 ; 
tribal  marks,  87  ; tribes,  9,  n,  12, 
62  ; women,  149 
Botocudo,  129 
Carib,  54 
Catanixi,  101 
Chepei,  6 
Cobeu,  120 
Coto,  58 
Issa,  79,  124 
Issanna,  140,  160 
Japura,  59,  60,  75,  79,  116,  124 
Jivaro,  115-16,  122,  158 
Karahone,  55,  57,  61,  140,  174-5,  178  ; 
appearance,  269,  274,  282  ; char- 
acter, 257-8,  259-60  ; dress,  74,  77  ; 
manufactures,  96  ; ornaments,  87  ; 
poisons  made  by,  91,  in,  118,  144, 
168,  259-60  ; slave  boy,  5,  273  ; 
statistics,  59,  62,  247  ; women,  80 
Kuretu,  104,  139,  140,  147,  150,  164, 


Tribes  (contd.) — 

176,  226  ; appearance,  275,  281, 
282  ; character,  60  ; country,  59, 
75  ; dress,  75  ; houses,  48  ; lan- 
guage-group, 58-9  ; ornaments,  84, 
86  ; statistics,  247 
Maku,  60,  61,  257,  262  ; appearance, 
269  ; country,  59,  70  ; slaves,  70 
Makuna,  country,  75  ; dress,  75,  77  ; 
houses,  44  ; ornaments,  86  ; stat- 
istics, 247 

Menimehe,  10,  56,  6r,  75,  115,  139, 
140,  143,  144,  276 ; appearance, 

273,  274>  283,  284  ; beehives  made 

by,  51,  130;  character,  11  ; 

country,  11,  58,  74  ; dress,  74,  76  ; 
language,  247,  248  ; monkeys  kept 
by,  52  ; ornaments,  86  ; pottery, 

62,  91,  95  ; shooting  fish,  113  ; 
statistics,  59,  247  ; tribal  marks, 
61,  86,  158  ; weapons,  95,  115,  116, 
1 17,  194  ; women,  10 

Muenane,  56,  61,  235  ; appearance, 
77,  282  ; character,  277  ; country, 
8,  63,  201  ; dance,  201,  208-9  ; lan- 
guage, 247,  248  ; ornaments,  86, 
275  ; statistics,  59,  247 
Napo,  58,  60,  74,  76,  82,  85,  1 12,  1 13, 
116,  140,  174,  175,  211,  217 
Nonuya,  56  ; character,  277  ; chief, 
63  ; country,  58,  63  ; dress,  76  ; 
houses,  44,  46 ; language,  248 ; 
statistics,  59,  247 

Okaina,  56,  60,  99,  132,  188,  216, 
235  ; appearance,  269,  275,  282  ; 
country,  58  ; dances,  194,  dress, 
81,  83  ; language,  248  ; orna- 
ments, 89  ; statistics,  59,  247  ; 
tribes,  62 

Opaina,  59  ; country,  74  ; dress,  75  ; 
statistics,  247 

Orahone,  country,  58  ; dress,  74 ; 
houses,  46  ; medicine  - man,  73, 
183  ; name,  58,  85  ; ornaments, 

85,  88 

Orihone,  60 
Ouayana,  241 
Pegua,  247 
Piohe,  60 

Resigero,  60,  61,  132  ; appearance, 

274,  282,  283,  284  ; baskets  for 
ants,  97;  cannibals,  120  ; character, 
277  ; chief,  63-4  ; country,  8,  58, 

63,  201  ; dress,  77  ; language,  248  ; 
ornaments,  86  ; statistics,  59,  247 

Rio  Negro,  140,  221 
Roucouyennes,  57 
Saha,  247 
Saka,  86 
Takuna,  59 


THE  NORTH-WEST  AMAZONS 


3i9 


Tribes  ( contd .) — 

Tapajos,  113 

Tikie,  61,  104,  in,  147,  159.  *94,  247, 
270,  274.  275 

Tukana,  61,  112,  135,  194,  195,  213, 
234,  247,  270,  274,  275,  282 
Tureka,  194 
Turuka,  191,  194,  196 
Tutapishco,  58 

Tuyuka,  86,  143,  151,  254,  282; 

houses,  47 
Uacarra,  16 1 
Uaenambeu,  160 

Uaupes,  59,  76,  85,  1 16,  140,  143,  188, 
198,  244,  248 
Umaua,  74,  247 

Witoto,  54,  55,  56,  57,  61,  71,  104, 
115,  126,  132,  133,  151,  152,  153, 
162,  178,  211,  231,  235  ; appear- 
ance, 58,  60,  269,  270,  271,  274, 
282  ; arts,  92,  93  ; character,  277  ; 
country,  58  ; dance,  209-10  ; dress, 
78,  83,  84;  fishing,  112,  113; 
houses,  44,  46,  48  ; language,  14, 
72,  220,  221,  248,  250,  251,  252, 
253;  language  - group,  56,  247; 
manufactures,  91  ; ornaments,  82, 
86,  88,  89  ; statistics,  59,  60, 
62,  247 ; tribes,  6,  62,  93  ; tree 
venerated  by,  233  ; women,  3,  149, 
155,  223,  260,  275 
Yahabana,  84,  86 
Yahua,  247 

Yahuna,  10,  116,  143,  194,  247 


THE 


Tribes  (contd.) — 

Yakima,  86 
Yuri,  56,  247 
Zaparo,  226 
Tylor,  E.  B.,  152,  264 

Vampires,  51-2 

Vegetable  life,  24-5,  26,  104,  130,  131 
von  Martius,  Dr.,  57,  264 

Wallace,  Dr.  Russell,  1,  19,  44,  46,  60, 
91,  101,  121,  134,  158,  160,  161, 
197,  240,  275,  280 

War,  61,  62,  117-19  ; blood  feuds,  61  ; 
causes,  61;  dance,  203-5;  de- 
fensive, 5,  14,  118  ; dress,  74 ; 
preparations  for,  5,  185  ; prisoners 
in,  118-19, 120-21, 159-60;  strategy, 

117 

Waterton,  Charles,  18 1 
Weapons,  16,  115  ; arrows  and  darts, 
109,  115-17,  145;  blow-pipes,  91, 
107,  108-9;  club,  115,  116,  194; 
fish-spears,  113;  guns,  91,  115  ; 
javelins,  in,  113,  115,  116,  145  ; 
shields,  115,  119  ; swords,  115, 116, 
260;  traps,  iio-ii,  118 
Women,  47,  51,  67-9,  195  ; behaviour 
of,  262  ; duties  and  work  of,  90-91, 
95,  96,  97,  98,  102,  134,  173-4,  263  ; 
mothers,  147-55  ; physical  traits, 
271-2,  282  ; position  of,  135,  159- 
160,  161,  164-5,  166,  240;  pro- 
stitutes, 159-60,  167  ; widows,  167 


Ik  < “P 


Printed  in  Great  Britain  by  R.  & R.  Clark,  Limited,  Edinburgh. 


Date  Due 

D 1 4 ’3i 

Tv  v 

f 

1 

